


Tenebrous

by ReimCai



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Assassination, Blood and Gore, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Dark Harry Potter, Dom!Harry, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Porn With Plot, Pretty Draco, Sexual Tension, Sexy Harry, Sub!Draco, Top Harry Potter, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence, Virgin Draco, somewhat slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 12:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 130,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13590219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReimCai/pseuds/ReimCai
Summary: Draco's life has been quiet and dull ever since the end of the war. Now at the age of 23 and working for a company that treats him like shit, Draco is forced to do a job that makes him come face to face with a crush that he hasn't seen in years and is famously known for having killed Voldemort, Harry Potter. Draco and Harry have to deal with one another when circumstances force the two with each other. There's hate, a whole lot of heat, a ton of guns, knives, magic and a harsh need between the two men throughout their unavoidable journey together.





	1. Amorphous: An Incipient

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nikitabell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikitabell/gifts), [loveglowsinthedark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveglowsinthedark/gifts).



> Alright. 
> 
> Here, I present, an HPDM story that I can't wait for every one to read. Of course, like my other story, it will start slow but there is going to be so much filth and violence that it's going to be worth it. This chapter is just the start, and it's a little sad at first but we can get through it. I love Harry and Draco together!
> 
> Please leave a comment, kudos, or any questions that you have. I'll be happy with either one. 
> 
> Enjoy. The next chapter will be updated next week on a Monday, but if I feel like it's good to go, I'll post it earlier. This chapter is edited by myself, so please go easy on me. This chapter is short, but I assure you, they do get longer. I do my best for my readers. Thank you!
> 
> Go on and read!

**Draconis Lucius Malfoy**

**_Age 23_ **

 

 

I shoved the cool flesh of my hands into the warm caverns of my trench coat, mouth parting to release a warmed breath to watch a haze of smoke like tendrils wind around the still, frigid air in front of me. The grey wisps curved and interlaced with one another to disintegrate and fade away into the soft breeze circling around my person and above my head.

A shiver raced down my spine, quick and stunting down the length of my back from the quivering cold atmosphere surrounding me. My numbed fingers played with the fabric inside of my pockets, the slight clatter of my teeth rattling together echoing in the back of my skull like an incessant drum and causing me to huddle in on myself even more in hopes to keep the cold from touching me further.

I pressed my lips together, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I slipped around one person from another. The crowd of people, both muggle and wizard, clambered about across Diagon Alley’s cobbled stone floors. They chattered amongst themselves, some walking briskly to their destinations as some took slow treks, others mumbling while some yelled or talked in hushed tones to their acquaintances.

I ducked my head, quiet as I took one quick step to the next, slipping through the cracks and spaces people left between their huddled bodies as my own made sure to keep some space to myself as I walked around multiple wizards and muggles.

_You’re going to be late._

With an irritated huff of air, I pursed my lips after swiping the tip of my tongue across the plush bottom flesh of my mouth in a nervous habit of mine.

_They hate you enough already, just one mistake and they’ll fire you on the spot._

Turning around a sharp corner, I felt the jostle of my satchel punch against the side of my hip bone with each lift of my leg from the sudden burst of jogging I let myself fall into once I saw that barely anyone was on this part of the alley.

It was a shortcut to get to my work.

I was going to look like a mess by the by time I get there.

My eyes revealed how groggy I felt since I went to bed at three in the morning and woke up around six, having woken up later than I expected because of my odd sleeping schedule.

It’s as if my eyes reflected the worn out essence of my person. The pale silvered color of my eyes seemed to have gone even lighter, the white, watered down crystalline beryllonite and quartz hues swirling together to create a liquified sheen. The milky shade of my eyes were such a reflection of an iridescent light grey and an amethyst film that the white of my eyes were harsh in its odd color. It was as if the silver was melted down.

My eyes shown how tired I was.

I used to tolerate the color of my gaze when I was younger, when my eyes were just a hazy grey and people didn’t make as much jabs at me for them, but when entering into my fifth year in Hogwarts my eyes became this horrid pale color and everyone made fun of me for them, going as far as calling me a freak of nature or the devil’s spawn.

My body was still the same as when I graduated from Hogwarts, slim and petite, coming at an average height with annoyingly long legs and and a small figure with curves. My arse was rather perky and a little more plump than any other regular male initially. I was dainty and fragile looking with barely any muscles, my hips wide like a women’s. Pansy, when she was my friend back then, loved to pinch my arse whenever we hung out together to tease me. I hated her for making fun of how “cute” and “small” my figure was.

And my hair wasn't better off with its appearance from how it was already coming loose from its low ponytail. The pale white strands were haphazard as they reached a little past my shoulders, the tie around it trying to prevent my hair from making me look like I came out of a meat grinder. The color of my hair made me stand out from the crowd, which I never took a liking too for the sole reason of the fact that I didn’t like the attention. My hair reminded me of white pastel paint, cream colored locks that went from pin straight to crazed during weird time intervals and doing whatever it wanted. Mother used to say that my hair looked like snow, all silvered strands that made everyone openly stare at me like I had more than one head.

Scrunching up my nose, I yelped out when my foot caught on some stone that protruded out from the others on the walkway, causing my mind to snap out of its daze as I tried to regain my balance and looked at the opening of the alley on the other end, a sensation of relief flooding me from the sight of it. 

Snickering beneath my breath, I sprinted towards the end of the alleyway, my heart thudding against my rib cage in time with the rapid breaths that released from my parted mouth as I all but ran out from between two close knit store houses and through another round of bustling, huddled folks to the large, old, tall black brick building looming over my person.

 _Prilliseas Inc. & Literature finery _was one of the most famous book and magazine publishing companies known in the wizarding world. The fine gold trimmed calligraphy embedded itself above the large, polished red wood doors that were a sharp contrast with the buildings blackened walls. The company already passed its 600th year anniversary and it kept up with it’s good business deals as well as getting new coming authors more exposed to the public eye.

I started working here a year ago and the people at the company treated me like they would to someone who they despised. 

With hate.

I couldn’t really blame them. Who would want to associate with someone who was a death eater and was thought to have forced Snape to kill Dumbledore? No one has yet tried to kill me or physically abuse me since the war, but that’s because everyone in the wizarding world saw me as worthless.

Their silence was enough to make me hate myself even more than I already did. But at least I accepted the past for what it was. I admitted to myself that what I did was wrong, impulsive and childish, but at the same time I think others would have done the same thing I did if their family was in danger from Voldemort. I survived the only way I thought I could, and that was to do the dark lord’s bidding in exchange for my family and me to be safe. I was young, and reckless and not willing to die.

I got my punishment in the end.

Everyone ended up loathing me. I was shunned from the wizarding world, forced to do homeschooling in my last year at Hogwarts for fear of what the students would think of and do to me if I returned so soon after the war, and both my mother and father were dead. Not to mention the fact that after a certain incident in the bathroom where I bled out on the floor, I had realized that I could never have the one person that I hadn’t noticed I’ve liked for so long.

Harry Potter would never like me the way I liked him.

But it’s been years since the war and I haven’t seen Potter during all this time. Everyone had slowly recovered from the bloody war, some still healing from its damages like me. I threw away any contact that I had in Hogwarts and all of my Slytherin friends hated my guts while they went around and blamed me for everything whenever that annoying journalist, Rita Skeeter, asked them questions about how awful it was to be acquainted with me so she could type it up in the Daily Prophet and make me look even more like a fucking wanker.

So I lived by myself, tried making money through one job after the next after graduating from Hogwarts with a letter of congratulations from the new Headmaster, my potions teacher, Severus Snape.

Getting a job at _Prilliseas Inc. & Literature Finery_ this year was a heaven sent for me, I was running low on money from working in a Pygmy Puff pet store and didn't know how long I could go before I would be kicked out of my dingy apartment in Knockturn Alley with not having enough to pay for rent from the amount of money I got from the pet store every other week. I may not be treated like a human being at the company, but I did get a good work load and got a decent amount of pay for it.

That was good enough.

_You’re not happy though._

Blinking rapidly, I mentally shook away my thoughts, sucking in a sharp breath as I started up the cobbled steps that led to the large entrance doors of  _Prilliseas Inc. & Literature Finery,_ pulling the doors open to step through, sign in at the front desk and rush to the elevator to get to the fifth floor where I knew my boss would be waiting for me to hand over my assigned paperwork for the day.

Standing stalk still in the elevator, I looked down at my attire.

_A disaster._

That's what I looked like.

Fumbling with the popped open buttons of my white long sleeved buttoned up shirt, I took my other hand to wipe it down the front and back of my thighs in an effort to straighten out the black fabric of my slacks, my coat at least covering my dainty figure.

A few strands of my hair fell out from my ponytail, framing the sides of my face and brushing across the skin of my cheeks and the top of my forehead.

I blew the stray locks from out of my peripheral view, hearing the inevitable  _ding!_ of the elevator as the metallic doors slid open to reveal a floor filled with cubicles, computer, desks and workers hunched over their work area as they either scribbled down on a variety of paperwork, typed on their keyboards, or talked animatedly over their assigned business phones.

I was used to the roar of my coworkers’ voices, the experience similar to that of white noise filtering through the hollow of ones ears, static and ceaseless in its continuous stream of sound.

I didn’t even get the time to walk down the aisle to my right to get to my own small cubicle before my boss, Andrew, popped out of nowhere to my right and shoved a crisp envelope into my left hand.

Andrew narrowed his eyes at me, rich dark brown orbs shadowing over as he gave a grunt my way. “I need you to bring this edited manuscript draft to its author. The customer called up saying they were nearby and I said we would bring the papers his way. His name is Albon Trisko and he’s going to be in that famous nightclub a few blocks from here called _Astringent._  Just give any of the guards your name and they’ll let you in since it has such high security surrounding it. He’s a very important member for this company, don’t screw up and lose the papers, Malfoy.” My boss’s tone was crisp and without a pitch of interest, just blunt and drone like.

I hated my boss.

He reminded me of the way my father talked. And father and I left off on bad terms.

I nodded slowly, tilting my head back to stare up at Andrew from beneath my lashes as I clutched the envelope tightly in the palm of my hand and replied faintly to his words. “I’ll get right to it, sir.”

What I really wanted to do was shove the envelope down Andrew’s pudgy throat and watch him choke on it for a good few minutes before kicking him through his office’s floor to ceiling glass windows that overlooked Diagon Alley and watch him splat against the stoned floors below.

I still had an attitude issue. It mostly came out when people were complete assholes to me when I went to go buy essentials for my apartments, like food or potential living utensils that I needed to get by with my everyday life. I did get snappy once in a while when my coworkers decided to think that they could push me around by ordering me to do their work just because I wasn’t the favorite here in the company.

Everyone knew not to mess with me for my known bitchiness and they stayed clear of my person whenever I was around, ignoring me as a way to get revenge for my snarky outbursts for their unwanted treatments towards me.

People loved verbally bullying me since the war but it only happened sometimes. I defended myself with my snarky mouth because despite what I’ve done in Hogwarts, that didn’t mean I needed to be treated like shit when my whole life I’ve been treated like trash by my own father, my fellow classmates and teachers.

I was taught by my father to be bitchy to others and because of that, no one liked me and thought of me to be a heartless, cold person.

I was bratty and I still am, but I learned how to keep my mouth shut when it needed to be.

And I didn’t want to get fired.

Andrew let out a tired sigh, rolling his stocky shoulders as he turned on his heel to show me his suited up back and the graying lines of his light brown hair at the top of his head. My boss lifted his arm to wave carelessly my way, a motion that resembles someone shooing away a pest of some sort.

I was that pest.  

Biting down on my tongue and resisting the urge to smack my hand across the back of Andrew’s aging, wrinkled head, I ignored the narrowed eyes pointed my way as I walked down the narrow hall to my left and settled into my small cubicle in the far corner of the room and onto my chair. My uncomfortable chair barely had any cushioning and always left me with a sore arse by the end of my work day.

Staring at the envelope in my hand with a small pout to my lips, my brows furrowed as I remembered what Andrew ordered me to do.

That’s when my heart decided to slam itself against the the inner walls of my ribcage and cause my breath to stutter in my lungs.

_No._

_Nonononononono!_

Astringent was a nightclub that was produced a couple of months ago by a man that I had the unfortunate circumstances to have met during the time I spent in Hogwarts. The nightclub was owned by none other than one of my own Slytherin classmates, Blaise Zabini. Astringent had already become one of the top three nightclubs in the wizarding world and I’ve heard rumors going around in my workspace that the club was very hard to get into, that one must be stuffed with riches before thinking of entering the place.

And how did Andrew convince Blaise to let me into his business domain when the arrogant Slytherin despised my whole being?

I couldn’t go.

Maybe Blaise wanted me to go to Astringent in hopes of making fun of me, to make jabs at how I lived my life now compared to his luxurious living, and most definitely would mock the way I look and my lack of intelligence even though I got better grades than the fool, helped him with his schoolwork and graduated just like him.

_It may be a trap._

_Blaise allowed you into his nightclub just to bully you._

Fuck.

Bloody hell!

Tightening my hold over the envelope, the straining whites of my knuckles were a ghastly white hue of my already pale enough skin, anxiety heady and rushing through my very veins as I watched the slight tremor in my hand.

_The last time you saw any of your classmates, they rounded up on you and locked you in the boys bathroom stall to cast a stupid charm that made you relive the moment Potter hurt you. Over and over and over-_

I let out a huff of air, the sound interrupting my train of thought and feeling my chest tighten at the mere memory of having to go through the same horrid event for four hours straight until Snape came bursting through the bathroom and broke my mind out of the spell.

I had to relive the moment where everything came crashing down on me, where I realized with saddened terror that I’ve had a stupid crush on Potter ever since I’ve met him, where I figured out that I had no strength left in me to try and kill Dumbledore. It was the moment when I cried like I was being torn apart in front of my childhood nemesis, vulnerable and tired and so very young and confused.

Blaise was the one that gave our Slytherin comrades the idea to stick me back in the bathroom where I was hurt by Potter’s Sectumsempra spell, getting cut up on the chest from the amount of magic poured out over my figure.   

I let out a scoff at myself, swallowing around a dry throat as I heard the crinkle of the envelope bunching up on itself from how harsh of a grip I had on it, body now wracking with a nauseousness that clouded my vision for a brief moment.

_Don’tthinkaboutitdon’thinkaboutit._

Turning swiftly on my feet, my trench coat wrapped around my figure as I pushed the impending memories into the far, dark corners of my head and rushed over to Andrew’s office, my breath quickening in time with the fast pace of my heart beating like a drum against my chest.

People around me seemed to have noticed the fast walk I procured on myself, their heads lifting the slightest as their slitted eyes observed the way I went over to Andrew’s office door and knocked fervently.

When I heard Andrew encourage me to step into his office, I tore the door open in my haste of nerves and stepped through the office to shut the door soundly behind me.

My boss’s head was knelt down to look at the stack of manuscripts in his hands, murmuring under his breath while I stood there with my hands quivering like the pathetic, weak person that I am. “Sir, can you give this assignment to someone else? I have many other papers that I have to get through with today and I think doing this run for Mr. Trisko will impede my progress, so-”

Andrew let out a snicker, his mouth curling up in disdain as he peered up at me and away from his workload, cutting my rant off. “I don’t think you have the position to tell me what I can and can’t do. I gave you this assignment and expect you to follow through with it, if you can’t do a simple task like giving our customer his edited manuscript, then please leave my office with your work badge and find somewhere else to work.”

_Godsdammit!_

I didn’t have a wand to cast a stinging hex at my boss in retaliation for treating me like complete shit.

My wand was ordered to be kept by Potter. And I never seen the Golden Boy for years since his defending of my mother and I in our trial after the war.

And I knew I was going to cave in and do what Andrew ordered me to.

The man knew I was desperate for work and the pay was significantly good for my living expenses. My boss was the only one who could make me do things I didn’t want to because he had power over me in terms of handling the money I earned.

I wanted to snap at him.

I wanted to … to cry.

I could feel the wobble of my bottom lip, the slight tremor in the flesh making me suck it into my mouth so I could clamp my teeth over it and keep myself from looking like the mess that I felt at the moment.

_Don’t show anyone weakness._

“I’ll bring the envelope to him, sir.” I mumbled, keeping my sneer from forming on my mouth, not giving my boss the time to speak as walked on out of his office with a slam to his door that echoed throughout the suffocating silence of the room.

Everyone was staring at me.

Releasing my bottom lip immediately, I gave the whole of the room a snark like curl of my mouth and tipped my head back to stick my nose up in the air in a haughty manner, the silver of my eyes turning into a cold glare. “I’m not a fucking pony show. Mind your own business.” My voice came out harsh and quick, a sharp hiss that rendered the others around me to snap their head back down to their personal work.

I was angry and embarrassed.

I was also emotional, which I made sure not to show to the whole of my work as I traipsed my way back towards the elevator and out of the building, the pit of my gut queasy and my rage simmering heavy beneath my skin, waiting to come out and attack anyone who decided to be talkative to me today.

I’ll do my job right.

I had to.

But what I hated most right now was the whole of my life.

_Mother would have consoled me if she were still alive._

_Too bad she wasn't here anymore._

I wanted to set the world on fire but at the same time drown myself in water.

 

* * *

 

 

It was times like this where I wanted to apparate.

I constantly walked on foot to wherever I needed to go because wizards didn’t believe in any of the muggles great technology and machinery, such as cars.

There was the upside of things with the fact that Astringent was just a few blocks away from here and I just needed to turn one more corner and I’d find it hidden at the back of the town.

I’ve seen it before.

Once when I was scrounging about for clothes in any store that would allow an ex death eater in, I came across the night club. It was a long stretch of a building, rectangular in its length and about four stories high. The building was made up of black marbled walls, a block of shimmering stone that drew in the sun’s essence and made itself glow from its shadowed position from other towering building in front of it.

Astringent stood out, that’s for sure.

Finalling rounding a block, I walked up to the front, large steel doors that belonged to the famous nightclub.

One guard stood to the right side of the doors, burly looking with his extremely large muscles, seeming to try and burst out of the dark, rich suit he wore on his big stature. The man was bald, colored tattoos slinking up and wrapping around the back of his neck with a harshness to his features, strong and dangerous. The guard’s eyes were rather unique, a shade of blue that can be compared to that of sapphire.

The man looked down at me because he was so fucking tall, causing me to tilt my head back and give him my own steely gaze.

The guard reminded me of Goyle and he didn’t give me a sense of uneasiness, just cautiousness. “I’m Draco Malfoy. I’m here to give an envelope to Albon Trisko.”

The burly guard’s blue gaze slid down the length of my body and back up, not in a way that was heated or taken for a blunt appraisal of my person, but in way that shown he was analyzing me as his job required him to do.

“A Malfoy entering a nightclub, now that’s something interesting that doesn’t happen often.” The guard’s voice was gruff and rasping with a deep cadence in his words.

I gave the man a bland look in return.

The guard’s lips tipped up, slowly and leisurely, as he kept his blue gaze settled on my figure while nodding his head in the direction of the steel doors. His smile wasn’t comforting but mocking. “Go on in. Zabini told me to inform you that you can stay for twenty minutes before he kicks you out. So be quick with your work or I’ll have to throw you out on the streets where you should be.”

My mouth parted for a second before I snapped it shut in affronted surprise, irritation itching beneath my skin and mortification threatening to coat over my cheeks. Instead of blushing with anger and shame, I pushed away the sensation to take in the annoyance I felt and gave the guard a sneer. “I highly doubt you’d be able to do anything with how big you are, sure you may be packing some strength but I don’t think you’re fit to run fast. You wouldn’t be able to kick me out because I’d have outrun you before you caught me, you stupid twat.”

The guard raised his dark brows, a slow frown curling down on his mouth as his eyes darkened into an azure hue, voice harder and coated with a bittersweet heat. “I see you’ve still got that awful attitude you’re so widely known for,” Brady let out a gruff snort then. “Better get in there, Death Eater, or I’ll crush your scrawny arse before you can even blink.”

I scoffed. “Don’t me call me by any nicknames, I still am a guest here and we wouldn’t want any bad reviews about how Astringent treats their customers, now would we? I do work with a company that also deals with magazine publications. Now I’m going to go inside and you’re going to do your job and stay out here like the good guard dog that you are for Zabini.”

My heart gave a sudden leap when I saw the man take a step towards me, his face turning into that of a brutish prominence, a sharp grin teasing his lips. Before the man could grab a hold of me like he wanted to, I let out a snicker to hide the abrupt fear I felt at being beaten to death by the huge guard and twisted on my heel so I could walk casually towards the door, pull it open and shut it behind me in time to see Brady growl out in his rage at my response to his order.

Maybe I could find a way out in the back of the club so I wouldn’t run into that guard again.

_You going to get yourself killed one day._

Pressing my back against the door, a shudder raced through my body when the deep, heavy thrumming bass of music filtered around my skin, tickling across the expanse of my flesh as my limbs buzzed with the heavy bass sounding all around me. The music was sensual, slow and deep as it accompanied a man’s smooth vibrato.

People that looked to be around their mid twenties and thirties mingled together over the polished black sleek stone floor, breaths hot and heavy as the air they breathed went into one another. Bodies were slick with sweat, hair matted to their necks, shoulders, and foreheads as they moved in sync against each other to the beat of the music, lost in their own world as they sighed, moaned and whispered to their partners.

It was as if sex exploded on the dancefloor, except … well … with clothes on.

I fiddled with the envelope in my hands, an awkward warmth falling over my being at the sight before me. The space of this level of the building was huge, high ceilings that carried neon purple lights strung up on black wirings that faded into the color of the dark building. On either side of the room were spiraling staircases, open and seen to the whole crowd as it led up to a wrap around balcony from the inside that shown VIP groups sitting around on lush, white furniture that glowed beneath the strobe lights, smoke flitting around the balconies to display the allowance of cigars and cigarettes above the dance floor.

I could make out another set of stairs at the far back left corner of the room opposite from where I stood, leading down into the building, rather than up.

How did others get to the other levels of the buildings? I didn’t see any other stairs or elevators for that matter.

To my left, I could make out the bartender’s black station table, made up of granite and stretching for a good ten feet length across the dance floor and barricading itself against the left wall. People weren’t sitting at the bar, all out on the dance floor as they swayed, rocked and breathed along with the heated music.

Keeping my eyes on the bartender station, I gave a bite to the inside of my cheek before walking towards the table and looking for the alcohol provider.

I had no want to drink, but rather, I needed to talk to an employee so I could ask about them having seen Albon around here. I’ve gone off and given thousands of manuscripts out to their original authors and most of the time, I had to ask around about where my customers were in whatever place they decided to reside in when they wanted their drafts back. It was always a mission to find my company’s customers.

I tightened my hold on the envelope when I saw a women come sauntering out of the black wall behind the bartender station, taken aback by how the wall opened up like it was black hole, caving in on itself with a soft suction.

Magic.

Perhaps that’s how others got to the different upper levels of the building. By using their wands to cast transportation spells.

The women that literally came out of the dark wall, wore tight black skinny leather pants with high crimson kissed red heels and a laced corset that shown off the voluptuous curves of her tall, model like figure. The sheer material of the corset shown bits and pieces of the skin of her breasts, dusky nipples poking through, exposed and taunting whoever they caught the attention of.

I wasn’t into girls though and I could care less about her big chest.

Such indecency.

My mother would have skinned this beautiful women alive for her attire if she was her child.

I didn’t mind it, hell, people had the right to dress however they wanted to, but I was taught to keep barely any skin from showing and I preferred it that way, comfortable with my shield of clothes.

And there’s a reason why I wear such a coverage of clothes, the more I didn’t look like Draco Malfoy, the more I wouldn’t be put into danger if anyone noticed me and decided to take their anger out on my person.

I could admit to myself that I was good looking, but my confidence in my body had dwindled down over the years when I soon figured out that no one would want anything to do with me once they realized who exactly I was. My dainty body would definitely be made fun of just like when I was younger to make me feel like shit for who I was as an ex death eater. Besides, I wasn’t interested in anyone. There was no reason for me to get all dressed up and involved with someone when I was hated and thought to be a waste of space. Every man I knew didn't look twice at me and it wasn’t like they interested me enough either.

_The only person you’ve ever been interested in was Potter and he would never want you._

The women that stood behind the bartender counter gave me a purse of her glossy lips, tilting her hips to the side so she could place a hand on the jut of it and give me a narrowed eyed look. “I was informed of you coming for a few minutes. Albon Trisko is in one of the private rooms downstairs, room 399. You’ll find him there. Be quick or Mr. Zabini will get angry.”

Of course he would.

The women watched me with her dark brown eyes and I stared back for a moment, finding her gaze odd as it wavered from one second to the next, like a caged animal, unsettled and nervous from her horrible fake display of confidence. The way she kept glancing over to the set of stairs that led down and back to my figure repeatedly had me tilt my head and press my lips together in concern. “Am I to be worried about what awaits me downstairs?”

The women blinked quickly my way, her lips pursing even more as her brows knitted together in consternation. “No no. Not at all.”

I had a switchblade in the inner pocket of my coat, so I can defend myself if anything happens.

I was in Blaise’s evil domain anyway.

The bartender snapped at me as I stood there contemplating if I should go down or not. “Blaise said that no harm is to come to you, so don’t worry about it. The club does have a reputation to uphold and messing with a wanker isn’t something we want to do.”

Right.

Well if this is a trap, I’ll be cutting someone today out of defense and if it wasn’t, then I was just a paranoid git.

Rolling my eyes at myself and the lady, I turned around to slink my way through the busy, gyrating crowd, making sure not to touch anyone in case I got their sweat and smell all over me as I headed towards the back of the floor and started my trek down the non lit granite staircase.

Clutching the envelope into my chest, I had to reach out my other hand to feel the cool wall against the pad of my fingertips so I could have something to give me a sense of grounding, the way down too dark for me to see anything except the edges of one step to the next as I trudged my way down for a food five minutes before reaching the end of the stairs and into an enormous room clad in burgundy colored stoned walls. The place was bigger than the level upstairs that I recently vacated.

Numerous wide hallways tethered from each other in different directions, black doors lined against one another. The place looked like a dungeon induced maze, fluorescent lighting showing long lengths of the hallways, gold plated numbers etched into the front of the doors.

I looked down the hallways, taking in the numbers of the first doors I could see so I can read off of each one to see which one was closest to the number "399" to see which path I needed to go through to get to it.

Having found a hallway that had doors from 300 to 400, I figured the one I needed was hidden amongst it and started to make a quick trip down the stretch of the walkway, reading one door from the next as I quickly trailed by.

_You just need to hurry up, give Albon the papers, and get the hell out of here._

These rooms were probably for people who wanted privacy with others, basically sex rooms. I was uncomfortable at being on the same level of such a place.

I didn’t have any experience in being intimate with anyone.

I was a 23 year old virgin and I didn’t mind it, but being in an area where there was nothing but sex going on around me made me feel like a child in a room full of adults, inexperienced and naive.

I didn’t like it.

Releasing a sigh of relief, I spotted the room I wanted to go through and knocked rather obnoxiously loud against it, my anxiety getting the best of me.

When I didn’t hear any response, my mouth turned down into a confused frown as I rolled my bottom lip into my mouth so I could scrape the edges of my teeth against the plush of the skin in a restless action.

Rapping my knuckles against the door again, I heard no response.

“Fuck it.” I murmured to myself, exasperated and jittery.

I had a feeling I would really be kicked out soon if I didn't walk out of Astringent in the next few minutes.

Turning the black knob on the door, I pressed against the frame to watch it swing inwards, my mouth opening to call out Albon’s name only to let out a squeal, high pitched and intoned with jarring disbelief.

The room was decently low lit, a bed made of black silk pushed up against the far wall, sheets rumpled as the room smelled of male, a particular scent of cigar smoke and warm honey filtering through my senses enticingly enough to make my body give out a series of shivers at the heady scent.

And my eyes were stuck on the two bodies sprawled out over the bed.

A brown haired male with hazel eyes was being fucked within an inch of his life, his fingers clawing into the blankets to rip them apart as his moans and screams echoed off of the walls of the room, his naked form bruised all over as he stared wide eyed at me from where he was being shoved into the bed over and over again from a cock reaming into him that belonged to none other than Harry Potter.

My body stood as if my feet were rooted to the spot, watching Potter from where I stood.

Potter had no shirt on, the shifting of his lean muscles shining with the wet of his sweat, sinuous arms straining with the chords of his muscles flexing with each violent, hard movement he made. He stood tall at the edge of the bed, shoulder blades protruding from his toned back. The harsh lines of his abs looked as if they could cut into marble, an eight pack row that tensed whenever Potter would rock his pelvis into the arse that his large, long, and hard cock pushed in and out of. The veins on his prick were prominent and slick with cum as he fucked into the body bent over the bed for him.

My eyes took in the narrowed line of his hips, defined and sloping together to vanish beneath the hemline of his low riding dark blue jeans, the black patch of hair at his groin disappearing along with the V of his hips whenever he leaned back enough to let the light above our heads capture it a mere moment before he snapped his lower half back up into the arse he kept shoving into and covered up his groin area again.

The jeans shown off his long, strong legs and muscular thighs, body rippling with its robust shape.

_Holy shit._

_Oh fuck._

The boy Potter was fucking into was now wailing at the top of his lungs, mouth opening and closing in sheer pleasure as he babbled for Potter to keep going.

I ran my gaze up to Potter’s face, his features even more harsh and sharper than the last time I saw him, his jaw strong and those cheekbones indefinitely cut like marble, a drip of sweat running down the line of his jaw to the tip of his chin, caressing the smooth, light tanned, bronzed hue of his skin. The provocative curve of his lips were set into a neutral line, cold and detached.

I had this need to run up to him and let my fingers trace the lines of Potter’s mouth, the want to get on the tips of my toes so I could crane my neck back and jab my teeth down on Potter’s plump lower lip, to suck on it and whine into the warmth of the Chosen One’s gorgeous mouth and to hear him growl into my own desperate one.

My cock, the traitor, twitched beneath my pants, filling up with blood and causing a rioting heat to infuse at the pit of my gut and leave my breath shuddering in my chest.

_Oh gods._

I shifted from where I stood, trying to alleviate the warmth I felt between my thighs, mouth slightly parted as I took in Potter’s hair. It was messier than ever, mussed up and pitch black in their tousled and disheveled strands, reminding me of the dark beginnings of midnight and ink, soft and silky looking. The shadowy locks of his hair were similar to that of the darkest depth of the ocean, smoky tinged and deafeningly onyx in its wake.

I couldn’t help the way my fingers went loose around the envelope, my brain malfunctioning at the image of my hands, frantic and wanton, running through Potter’s dark locks as he rammed his prick into my arse, brutal and hard and rough-

The clatter of my envelope against the black wooden floor made the boy who was getting fucked, snap his eyes back up to mine, stricken and worried about being caught in such a state. The sound interrupting my haze of thoughts. 

I opened my mouth to speak, to explain, but Potter had to slide his gaze agonizingly slowly my way and render me speechless.

The gleaming jade of his eyes slipped through the black strands of his hair that fell over his piercing gaze, an astonishing emerald that looked as if the stone was dipped into fluorescent waters to come out dripping in alexandrite shades. It was as if the colors of those eyes breathed from Potter’s steady, unnervingly focused gaze, like they had a life of their own. A blood red ruby coated sheen mixed in with the green, spreading out like tendrils from his pupils and fading out into the emerald shade, reminding me of veins, spindly and unearthly beautiful.

Potter was sexy, unbelievably so, looking like some sort of otherworldly being, devilishly handsome and stunning to look at.

He looked _untouchable_.

And he held himself confident and detached. Even though he was fucking someone, he looked cruel with the way his face was set into a look of indifference, giving nothing away but hardness, like a wall has been built up around him and it was unbreakable. He emitted authority and strict power, strong and smothering in his presence, making those around him feel the need to obey his every demand from the way one could sense that there was something hidden beneath his cold countenance, as if waiting to be released and wreck havoc. He was like an impossible feat of an earthquake, quiet and dormant, but when something unhinges him, he becomes violent and ceaselessly dark.

He was frightening in that way.

Potter’s eyes bore into my own, causing my prick to strain against my pants and my chest to heave up and down with the beating of my heart beneath my chest, fast and scared and thrilled all at the same time.

Then Potter gave me no regard of his attention, turning his head around and carelessly going back to making the boy beneath him writhe about, Potter’s hands gripping over the boys waist to bring his arse back to meet with each thrust Potter pushed forwards with such an easy tug of his wrists.

Potter ignored me.

That fact made my heart deflate immediately and my chest sting with a heavy ache.

“A-are you Albon Trisko?” I stuttered out, astonished at the jumble of words leaving my mouth as I spoke to the brown haired boy.

I didn’t want to be here.

I wanted out.

I wanted to run from Potter as far away as I can so I wouldn’t have to feel like such trash like this again.

And I felt a prickling rage at the boy Potter was fucking.

I shouldn’t, but I did.

_Fuck me._

The boy nodded frantically at my spewed question, his breaths getting faster and faster.

Without further delay, I knelt down to shove all the papers that fell out of the envelope when I had dropped it on the floor back into its folds, my hands visibly shaking from the heat I felt coating my cheeks and inside of my gut, unnerved and hot all over.

_Getougetougetougetout._

Keeping my head down, I walked towards Potter and Albon, tossing the envelope on the bed and quickly turning on my heel to book it out of the room with a stumble in my steps. "Lock the bloody door from then on, idiots.” I hissed out in a mumble to myself as I walked away towards the still open door.

Potter was shameless, still beating his cock into Albon.

I didn’t look anywhere near him.

I was too scared and embarrassed to.

Right when I was about to slam the door shut on the both of them, a voice, deep in its baritone sounded throughout the whole of the room, velveteen and rumbling like the purr of a motorcycle, low and gravel like. It skated over my skin teasingly and with a burning heat. “You’ve still got such a mouth on you. Next time be a decent human being and don’t come in where you’re not allowed, Malfoy.”

I turned around at the entrance of the open door to gape at Potter’s words, my cheeks flooding with red now. The need to snap at Potter was so profound, even though I was just as scared of him as I was scared of the war with the way he carried himself now. I was going to give the Gryffindor a retort, but Potter simply looked my way with those emerald, blood red eyes of his and I found myself jumping up high into the air in my surprise when the door slammed shut on my face, blocking me out the room and from seeing Potter. 

I stood there, breathing hard and ragged, my prick pulsing with its hardness and my face lit up like the spitting flames from the sun.

All I wanted to do now, was throw a heavy tantrum and cry.

With the way I reacted to seeing Potter after all these years, it seemed like my crush for him was still intact, and I hated it very much. Obviously, the Golden Boy wanted nothing to do with me from the way he treated me like of piece of gum scraped apart at the bottom of his shoes.

Great.

Bloody fantastic.

I swiftly ran down the hallway, up the stairs, ordered a shot of tequila from the bartender women, and walked out of the building with my dignity barely intact.

The stupid bodyguard I met wasn’t standing at the front entrance this time, but another one was, and I thanked whatever deity for that.

I’d go back to work, function normally because one shot couldn’t get me drunk, and end up in my apartment when I finished. Alone. As always.

 

 


	2. Contrivance: An Assignation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has got to be one of the longest chapter's I've ever done. I hope you guys read it because a lot of stuff happens and there is tension in the air *maniacal laughter ensues*. I wanted to post this chapter earlier because I couldn't wait. 
> 
> Feel free to ask any questions you want. This update is going to be a lot to take in, so bare with me. The next one if going to be fun! If any of you have read my other story that deals with Neville/Draco, then you know I love to torture my readers with sexual tension. I'm loving Harry in this and hopefully you guys will to, just give him some time. 
> 
> The next chapter will come out when I catch up with some of my other works in progress, but it won't take forever. I promise. So look forward to the next chapter! Go forth!

 

I rolled over across the small expanse of my bed, fuzzy black blankets curving around the tangle of my limbs as I let out one exaggerated breath after another, the air releasing from my mouth blowing away the mess of my pale hair out of my eyes and cheeks as I shoved my face into the soft plush of my pillow.

My lips pursed against the downy surface, letting out a tired whine in the silent confines of my dingy studio apartment as I rubbed both sides of my cheeks over the width of my pillow, murmuring into the fabric in a bout of boredom and restlessness.

I shuffled my legs around, huffing and puffing as I slid my seeking fingers beneath my pillow and grappled at the sheets beneath it, nails digging into the material as I wrung it between my fidgeting hands.

Peeking out to the side of my pillow, I caught sight of my alarm clock displaying red numbers in the dawning darkness of my room.

It was seven in the fucking morning.

And I have been awake for a good two hours.

“Urgh!” Shoving my face repeatedly into the curve of my pillow, distressed sounds cluttered up from the depth of my chest and emitted from my open mouth as I breathed raggedly.

It wasn’t like I had to get up early anyway. I had no work because it was the weekend and I was trapped inside of this small studio for a good couple days before I was expected to show back up at my job.

I barely had any money to go out and do something for myself, so the only choice was to stay in, read and write and be my nerdy self for the next 48 hours or so. I didn’t mind it. I loved my books, and writing gave me an outlet for the overwhelming thoughts that festered in the back of my head every minute of the day. But what I really wanted right now, was some ice cream, and I didn’t have any money for that because rent was due tomorrow.

Bloody hell.

I was bored and broke.

Staring at the red digits on my alarm clock, my brows furrowed together in perturbation, the tip of my tongue flicking out to run along the flesh of my bottom lip as my thoughts derailed at the sight of the crimson colors blinking back at me and reminding me of the ruby hues of Potter’s eyes.

_Fucking shite._

I just had to run into the Chosen One in the dark corners of a nightclub as he fucked my customer so hard that I wouldn’t be surprised if Trisko was in seventh heaven by the end of it.

_Potter was too busy focusing on someone else to give you an ounce of his attention._

Gah!

I clenched my teeth together, a significant frown turning the corners of my lips down as my eyes formed into slits in their stare down with my alarm clock.

My chest felt hollowed out, the slow beating of my heart ringing in my ears as I remembered yesterday’s events. Potter always kept to himself, most of the time reserved and quiet but always watching and thinking a mile a minute from the way his jaded eyes soaked in the conversations of others, analyzing and picking apart the words so he could digest their meaning and any hidden aspects in a person’s sentences. I remember watching Potter look at others as they spoke, gaze focused and his body still, before the war broke out.

Potter was threatening back then, but not as much as he was now, what with the way he looked as if he couldn’t care less about what was going on around him, it seemed as if the Gryffindor has become even more mesmerizing with his harsh demeanor.

The man also looked like someone completely different. Potter eluded sin, embodied it with a sensual prominence that was both intimidating and magnetic.

In the bathroom where Potter cut me up with his powerful spell, his body standing above my lying form as he stared straight down at me with those searing eyes of his, I knew then that I didn’t hate the man as I thought that I did for all those years growing up in Hogwarts. My brain connected certain pieces together at that moment, how I would go out of my way just to get in Potter’s line of vision and space, how I would make jabs at the Gryffindor until he would snap and we would have a verbal smackdown or a physical fight that ended up with me most likely beaten and bruised while Potter looked stunning with no scratches on his bronzed skin. I noticed the way I stared at Potter as we grew up, constantly on my toes around him, waiting for any contact we had with one another with my heart racing until I thought it would burst in excitement and adrenaline.

I thought I just hated the man. But it turned out that I was just obsessed with him and was mad at Potter for not having reciprocated a friendship between the two of us at such a young age. I didn’t know it at that time, but I did when I watched Potter, powerful, gorgeous and breathtaking, look down at me as I cried on the bathroom floor. It was then that I knew how far my liking for the man went and how stupid I was for thinking that my craving for Potter’s attention was not what someone who hated the other wanted from their enemy.

After the war, everything went downhill.

I realized that Potter was probably never going to see me the way I saw him. He was also dating that redheaded sister of Weasley’s, Ginny, back then. I thought he was straight. Well, up to the point where I just saw him fucking a boy like he had done it many times already.

And I sort of seethed at Potter for making me feel that flicker of hope that he would like me, because he was most likely bisexual or gay and that constituted my chance in getting with him. But the Golden boy didn’t seem to have any interest in me. That knowledge crushed any hope of mine in getting with Potter.

_He hates you._

_You’re the one at fault for Dumbledore's death._

What would Potter want to do with a run down, ex death eater?

_You’re pathetic._

It was my day off and I was moping and pitying myself.

I need more hobbies.

I need to stop thinking.

With a roll of my eyes, I ignored the pain pricking at the center of my chest, trying to vanish the image of Potter fucking into Trisko from my head.

I’ll just remember the part where there was only Potter and his thrusting narrowed hips. Perhaps fantasize about being the one he was shoving his cock into-

“Stop it!” I chastised myself out loud, my voice ringing with a shrill of rage and mortification throughout the whole of my small studio apartment, breaths wheezing past my mouth as I shoved the palms of my hands into the pillowy surface of my mattress to heave myself up so I could lean my arse against the backs of my calves. I knelt precariously, running my fingers through the mess of my hair and gripping the pale strands to tug on them in a fervor of frustration.

_Stopthinkingabouthimstopthinkingabouthim!_

Jesus _fuck,_  I see Potter for one day and I’ve become psychotic.

_Something’s wrong with you._

A loud knock on my apartment door had me squealing out in a fit of fear induced surprise, my body jolting from its position as my arse bounced off of the backs of my legs and caused my breath to halt in my throat.

I was too stunned to move, thinking that I must have imagined the knock on my door since I never have had anyone visit me, not even Snape who at least met up with me every Thursday of every week.

I yelped out, air rushing out of my lungs as a bang thundered throughout my apartment, the sound harsh and blunt against my door frame.

A voice boomed from outside of my studio, puncturing through the quiet surrounding me. “Malfoy, open the door.”

The voice was familiar, deep and having a vibrating undertone that caused my eyes to widen as if they turned into headlights, large and filled with brimming surprise.

Kingsley Shacklebolt?

Before I could even begin to fathom why Kingsley would be at the front door of my squalid studio apartment, I watched in dawning horror as the front door slammed open inwards, smacked against the wall of my room, and Kingsley came barging on in with a stern frown marking his face and his burly figure taking up a good amount of space as he practically smashed my door shut behind him.

I stared. Shellshocked.

The head Auror of the Ministry of Magic seemed to tense up as his hard gaze went slack for a minute, the amber flecks of his eyes seeming to create a dazed sheen of copper while they flickered over the entirety of my body with a heavy focus.

That’s when I noticed that I was only wearing a large, long sleeved pale purple top that dipped low at the neckline and shown off my sharp collar bones, the skin of my upper thighs exposed with no such boxers beneath.

I felt a blush searing my face at having been caught in such a state, my mouth opening to rush out frantic words. “What are you doing here? I swear I didn’t do anything. Are you even allowed to come barrelling in through people’s places without their permission, huh? You almost gave me a heart attack with that barbaric entrance, invading my area like it’s yours, such impolite manners for the head Auror of the Ministry of Magic-”

I was fumbling about with the sheets of my bed, wrapping it around my body like I was some sort of burrito, my words cutting off in my haste to cover myself up from Kingsley’s eyes that wouldn’t stop _staring_ at me like I offended him in some way.

Kingsley shook his bald head, his mouth curling down into a disgruntled scowl as he rose up his arms and crossed them over the wide expanse of his chest, reminding me of my father when he was about to give me a lecture on family priorities.

I hopped off of my bed, making sure to have most of my body shielded from the Auror’s gaze as I gave him my own glower, cheeks hot and having no way to stop the flush of embarrassment from showing.

I watched Kingsley’s jaw tense, his gaze finally dropping away from my stubborn one as he cleared his throat rather obnoxiously loud while he situated his prone form by rolling his shoulders beneath his black Auror robes. “I’m here to interrogate you about Albon Trisko and Jazine Besory, that bartender women you met. They were both murdered last night at the nightclub, Astringent, and witnesses say that they saw you vacating there for a good couple of minutes and leaving rather abruptly just before Zabini found his bartender and customer dead.”

_What the fuck?_

My back felt as if someone shoved ice down the length of my spine, my stature straightening up significantly as my limbs tensed from where I stood with my head reared back so I could look at the Auror from my shorter height compared to his tall one.

This was news to me. Trisko and that bartender, Jazine, were both found dead at the nightclub right after I left and that didn’t settle well in my stomach. What made my worries worse was how it was weird that the people I associated with last night, were the ones that ended up dead.

I mean, I didn’t even know them, but having met them just once and figuring out that they died just a couple seconds after I left had my head going in a dizzy spell of nausea and concerned astonishment. I could say that I didn’t like Trisko, what with my petty jealousy at that moment, but that didn’t mean I wanted the poor boy killed.

Potter was with Trisko. Was he dead? Kingsley didn’t say anything about Potter. Maybe Potter left the vicinity after having sex with Trisko before the murders happened. I highly doubt the Gryffindor was dead with the simple fact that Potter was powerful. His wandless magic that was shown last night displayed his strength. 

It would be hard to take Potter down.

I blinked up at Kingsley, lips thinning out as I responded. “I got there around 4:30 in the evening and left around 4:44 since I couldn’t stay for too long. You can ask my manager, Andrew, at my work that he, too, can vouch that I wasn’t gone long and he was the one that sent me to go to Astringent to give a drafted manuscript to Albon Trisko, one of our customers. Jazine told me where I could find Trisko, I also ordered a tequila shot from her then left afterwards. The reason for my rush out of the nightclub was because I was on limited time with staying in the club as well as getting back to my office quickly.”

Kingsley raised his brows. “That was very specific, most of the time people don’t remember the time when they arrived and left the scene. Tell me, why would you be drinking on the job? That’s not very good for employees if they wanted a good work ethic. Maybe you got too drunk to remember-”

I snickered, the sound intruding on Kingsley’s analysis. “We both know that one shot can barely do any damage to someone. And I needed alcohol because I was stressed with worrying over getting back to work in time. Like I said, my boss can vouch for me.”

I was no way in hell going to tell Kingsley that I drank some alcohol for my stress over having seen Potter and him fucking someone right in front of me because of having a crush on the Chosen One for years. That can stay out of my testimony. I didn’t have to say everything if I didn't want too. I had the power to remain silent and I can choose to keep quiet about Potter.

Kingsley glared down at me, taking a step forward as I took one step back to keep space between us, his closeness making my skin erupt in unwanted goosebumps. “Trisko was found with his neck sliced open, naked on a bed. And Jazine was found lying on the floor behind the counter with a hole in her chest and her heart missing. I find it odd that the people you conversed with are the ones that were murdered. No one else was with them that night.”

So he didn’t know about Potter being with Trisko during that time?

And Kingsley probably suspected me of the murders.

“I didn’t kill them. If that’s what you think. And if Trisko wasn’t with someone, then why was he naked? He must have had sex before, so-” This time, Kingsley cut my sentence off.

“How did you get the papers to Trisko? You were the last to see him before someone found him dead, if I’m correct with the information I’ve gathered.” The Auror looked at me with a narrow in his light brown eyes, obvious suspicion etched deep into the creases of skin beside his eyes. And that made me pissed off.

It was because of my history that people would think that I murdered Jazine and Trisko so easily.

My past will always follow me everywhere.

If Kingsley wanted the truth, then he was going to get it. I didn’t want to be someone accused of something I didn’t do. “I went downstairs to where Trisko was residing in one of the private rooms. I knocked but he didn’t answer so this time I went on inside, sort of like the way you barged into my room today, and saw him getting penetrated by-” my voice screeched to a halt when I saw Kingsley take another step towards me, my foot taking one step back from his movement.

Kingsley’s eye color shifted then, so fast that it was in time to that of the beat of a Hummingbird’s wings, switching back and forth from a glowing, eerie yellow to a murky brown.

That wasn’t normal.

Something seemed off about Kingsley the first time he entered my apartment. Usually the man was all about citizen’s rights and would have waited for me to grant him permission to come into my room. And he would have kept a good distance away from me. Right now, he kept edging toward me like a snake, eyes flashing like headlights.

Abnormal.

_What’s going on here?_

“You were saying?” Kingsley’s low voice no longer held that husky tone of his, a sort of hiss slipping out of his mouth with his words.

Dread, cold and panicked, washed over the flesh of my taut body as I felt a sense of unease fall into my gut and gather like an anxious ball of energy there. I decided to finish what I was saying, although this time not mentioning who it was that was fucking Trisko.“A guy. I don’t know who, couldn’t make out his face, honestly-” I jerked back when Kingsley let out a sneer, his features pinching into an ugly grimace as he spat at me.

“You’re lying. Who’s the man that was with Trisko? Tell me, was it Potter? Huh? I bet it was. That fucking arrogant bastard, thinking that he can outsmart us. Tell me it was him!” Kingsley’s voice roared at me from his sudden close proximity, eyes huge and wild like a caged animal as his flashing eyes ran over the whole of my face with a frantic pace, searching for something that he wanted from me.

I was stunted, my heart thudding violently against my chest at the sudden outburst from the Auror.

_This man is not Kingsley._

Why did he want me to declare that the man I saw was Potter so badly? This wasn’t how an Auror was supposed to act. And Kingsley didn’t even mention Potter up until now. Perhaps the man was waiting for me to say something about Potter?

Dread fell over me. I had no way of protecting myself. No wand, no switchblade on me, hidden beneath my pillow where I should have grabbed it before the man came barging into my room. With the way Kingsley was looking at me, half out of his damned mind, I had a feeling I was going to get hurt.

I was right.

Kingsley lunged at me, a growl emitting from his throat. “Since you won't’ tell me, I’ll fuck it out of your sweet arse then.” He went to snap out his hands to grab at my shoulders, the action significantly fast, my mouth popping open to let out a gasp as I scrambled backwards from his touch, head spinning from my own swift reflex.

The sound of metal whizzing through the air caught my ears, the noise similar to that of someone sharpening a knife with a quick swipe up against the sharpener, fast and barely noticeable by a regular human’s hearing.

And that’s when a sickening squelch resounded throughout the room, my wide eyes catching the sight of the tip of a dagger, blood red and dripping with the liquid onto my wooden floors, sticking out from the front of Kingsley’s head.

Everything seemed to stop there, only for a miniscule of a second, as the air from my lungs decided to leave me starved of its essence and my body was as still as a pole.

Kingsley slumped forward towards me, his mouth gaping wide as his limbs went noodle like and his body lurched sideways like a puppet without its master, thudding against the hardwood floor at the front of my feet as the heavy brightness of his eyes shifted into that of a dull shadow.

Dark crimson blood oozed out from where both ends of the dagger stuck out of Kingsley’s head, running across the floor and pooling around my bare feet.

_Oh holy hell._

It’s been years since I’ve seen a dead body, mostly from the war.  

My chest rose and fell with air, my person dry heaving abruptly. Planting my trembling hands over the bare skin of my thighs as my breaths scattered from my mouth in a too fast rhythm, my throat let out this high pitched wheeze as the pungent smell of rustic, metallic blood flooded my senses and made my head sway in a tizzy.

My eyes were squeezed shut, trying to breathe through my nose as my heart felt like it would lunge out of mouth from the sickness that I was put under in such a quick manner, catching me off guard as my body reacted before my mind could function what my lungs were inducing throughout my frame.

Trying to steady my breaths and stop the quivers raking all over my terrified form, I heard the inevitable sound of footsteps, heavy and slow, getting louder by each passing minute as the footfalls came closer.

_Who was the one that threw the dagger?_

Snapping my eyes open, I gave out a squeak as I found my face at eye level with a black jean covered crotch.

My lips parted on a shuddering intake of breath, eyes trained on the rather prominent bulge of a cock, confused and rendered immobile.

“My eyes are up here, Malfoy.” Potter’s voice gave out a husked drawl, deep and bored and causing my chest to shake with the baritone of his voice, familiar to my ears as it induced my body to light up from the inside and out.

My gaze was stuck on Potter’s bulge, small puffs of air emitting from my mouth as I tried to stop the odd sensation of arousal and fear from colliding with one another and making my prick give an encouraging twitch beneath my pants.

_I’m so fucked._

Just from hearing Potter’s voice caused a violent reaction from my body even though I was in a bad situation right now.

Now is not the time to get horny.

_You just saw someone get killed._

_Ohgodsohgodsohgods!_

Sucking in a sharp breath, I had to tear my eyes away from Potter’s crotch to run my gaze up his tall figure, taking in the way his black jeans slung low on his hips to show that tempting V-Dip they displayed and the black hair of his groin area before it was covered by the fabric of his jeans and the bottom hem of his shirt. He wore a long sleeved black shirt, sleeves rolled up passed his elbows to show the veins in his toned long arms, abs pressing against the loose material of his shirt with every calming breath he took.

Potter’s hair was just as messy as it was last night, brushing across the smooth, bronze skin of his forehead as dewey grass green eyes mingled with wine red wisps stared down at me. His gaze was unsettling with its heavy focus, alluring and damaging to my mental state all at once.

I gaped up at him like an idiot.

“Close your mouth before you catch flies.” Potter spoke again, a shiver racing over my skin at his voice and his intoxicating scent of cigar smoke and honey, the warmth radiating from his looming figure making my brain short circuit.

_You need to get your shite together!_

_Someone just got killed!_

The sheets that were wrapped around me had fallen to the floor, covering Kingsley’s rotting body as I felt my own limbs start to wobble from its jelly like jitter, mind trying to understand what just happened.

I was talking before I could fathom what I was saying. “Wh-why are you here? Did you just k-k-kill Kingsley? Was this man even Kingsley? W-what’s happening?” I was a stuttering twat, nerves and hysteria getting the best of me as I looked up at Potter, my body still hunched over as the oxygen seemed to have been drained out of my chest and left me empty.

My breath whooshed out my mouth when Potter lifted one foot and stepped over Kingsley’s body to crowd in on me, my body jerking back in surprise as I fell back on my arse with a harsh impact and hissed out at the pain sluicing up my tailbone from the sudden fall. My back jarred against the side of my bed, spine colliding with the plush of my mattress as my body was forced back from Potter’s trek towards me, his jean covered cock right at the part of my lips from the way I had to tilt my head back until the back of my skull touched the bed and prevented me from escaping Potter’s sudden invasion on my space.

The Gryffindor made me press my head further into the side of my bed when he all but shoved his covered cock at the open part of my mouth, my throat releasing a small broken whimper when the flesh of my bottom lip brushed featherlight at the zipper of Potter’s jeans. My eyes got even larger at the sound I just emitted, my cock throbbing beneath my sleep shirt as my stomach dipped with an inferno of heat at the musk I smelled from Potter’s cock, feeling my mouth barely caress the fabric that covered his prick.

“W-what are you d-doing?” I stammered out my words, turning a profuse red.

Potter disregarded my existence by sliding his peridot eyes away from my own large ones and shifted his tall frame the slightest bit to let my bottom lip drag horizontally across the heat of his clothed cock in a light brush, enough to let my chest heave up and down from the erratic pace of my heartbeat and my thighs to quiver from where I sat.

“Learn to have this switchblade on you at all times.” Potter suddenly stepped back, making me jump when I felt my knife being dropped into the space between my spread legs.

Potter’s heat was gone, his smell barely tangible and his cock nowhere near my mouth now.

Potter just wanted to grab my switchblade from beneath my other pillows.

_How did Potter know where my knife was?_

The damn Gryffindor didn’t have to literally force his way into my space to get to it.

_Mother fucking hell._

My stream of thoughts were interrupted when I watched Potter walk over to Kingsley's prone form, bending at his knees to get into a low crouch with an easy gate and grip the end of the dagger to easily wrench it out of Kingsley’s head, blade slipping out of the wound with a slick gush of sound as more blood poured out of the gash.

I pressed my lips together in an attempt to not start gasping for air again, watching the gurgling of the red liquid slide out of the Auror’s head and spill more out onto my floor.

Potter raised the tip of the dagger up to his the curve of his mouth, the hot slick of his tongue flicking out to run the flat of it over a portion of the blood soaked blade, quick and with a finesse that made me swallow around a convulsing throat.

Why I wasn’t sickened at the sight of Potter licking _blood_ from a freshly cut head of a once living human being, was a question I couldn’t answer.

Instead, I was in a state of shock and inevitable arousal.

“W-Why are you doing that? A-are you a vampire or something? Oh my _gods,_ I’m dreaming, aren’t I? I think I’m dreaming. Will you _s-stop_ that!” I couldn’t take my eyes off of the the way Potter poked out his tongue again to give another heated lick at the reddened blade, crimson streaking over the expanse of his seeking tongue. My cock was incessant on pushing through my clothes as my mind reeled at the sight of the man casually tasting someone’s blood and making it look downright filthy.

I went from having a freak out session to being turned on the next second.

_You’ve finally lost your mind. All these years in solitude has made you bat shite crazy, Draco._

Potter ignored my words, and instead, twisted his head sideways, tilting it to the side in wicked salaciousness, the tendrils of his hair falling into the glow of his emerald eyes as those lips of his were dead set into a straight line. He let his left elbow settle on his bent knee as he let the bloodied knife slip through the quick play of his long fingers, flicking it around with each one. “You act like you’re disgusted by my licking blood off of a knife, but you’re not. Your pupils are dilated, the skin on your cheeks have grown into a flush of pink petaled colors while your breaths have gotten significantly faster and that cock of yours is pressing insistently against that ridiculously short shirt.” Potter talked with a low drone of a voice, without any care as he spoke in a deep murmur to me.

I went even redder at the Gryffindor’s words, my fingers falling to the floor so I could dig my fingernails into the wooden ground in a rush of nerved heat.

Potter slowly raised his dark brows up at me, flinging the knife up into the air with a blurring motion to catch it without any trouble in between his index and middle finger. A hum that rumbled deep in Potter’s chest teased over my gooseflesh as it filled the tensed silence in the air.

Any response lodged in my throat when Potter pointed out my heated state.

I wanted the bed to swallow me whole.

“You’re aroused, Malfoy. I wonder why?” The last statement that Potter spoke was dipped in a saccharine, dark taunt, lowered into that of a mocking cadence.

Maybe he knew why.

I hope he didn’t think it was because of _him._

I’d want someone to bury myself beneath concrete ten feet into the ground if Potter thought that I was turned on by him. It was true, but I’d rather have him know that adrenaline caused my state of arousal, not him. It happens. I heard it does.

_Fucking shit, damn and hell!_

“It’s just a response to adren-naline. And d-d-don’t change the s-subject. Why are you h-here Potter? What’s the meaning of a-all of _this_?” I nudged my head down to the dead body sprawled out at the bottom of my feet in front of me, my mouth pursing in consternation as I let my teeth subconsciously shove into my bottom lip to nibble on it in distress.

“Don’t know.” Potter’s answer came out with a sharp husk, causing me to look over at the Gryffindor once again as his face shuttered, as if he was shutting down any walls that were a breadth open, his features shifting into a cold mask.

I visibly shuddered at the way Potter turned cruel in front of me, more so than he had been a few minutes ago, my breaths coming out quicker as warmth blanketed the whole of my trembling body.

“T-T-That’s a lie. You just killed someone, I-I-” I couldn’t think straight, my mind a wreck as I couldn’t form the right words to come out of my warbling mouth, Potter’s eyes now boring holes into my very skin and eliciting my body to have an internal dilemma to recoil or spread myself out to bask in the man’s burning attention.

“Well if you tell anyone what happened, you’ll end up just like your father. In Azkaban and dying there. You know the Ministry would love to put you in that place. They won’t believe you so don’t start thinking that you can tell anyone about this. Get back to being a docile, little kitten and don’t go prying into my business. This never happened.” Potter’s words had come out distant and indifferent, low tone turning into a deep subtle threat.

I jabbed my teeth into my lip once more before releasing the skin with a slight pop, my hands curling in on themselves to keep from smacking them against the floor in mortified rage.

That hurt.

What Potter said made my chest sting, throbbing with a heady pain that made me press against the bed for comfort.

How did I not have anything to do with this?! This man, because I was sure that the guy wasn’t Kingsley with the way he acted, came into my apartment to come looking for Potter! Was everything that the pretend Auror told me was a lie? Was Javine and Trisko still alive?

I needed answers and Potter wasn’t giving me any. None whatsoever.

And then the Gryffindor had to insult me about my father and how the wizard world wouldn’t believe me and put me into Azkaban to rot there. How can I not want to pry into Potter’s business after seeing him kill a man so easily that he made murdering look like a daily routine.

_This is so fucked up._

Also, what’s this about calling me a “docile, little kitten”!

The fucking nerve of this man. “S-so you just expect me to do as y-y-you say? Yeah, whatever, P-Potter. Maybe I _should_ pry into your business. You won’t tell me anything.-” The Gryffindor interrupted my angered rant.

“You don’t want me to get angry, so don’t start mouthing things off, Malfoy.” Potter threw the knife into the center of fake Kingsley’s back, the flick of his fingers sluicing the knife through the air with a flash of action that I couldn’t catch with my eyes. The motion too fast. He rose back up from his knelt form, Potter staring me down like I was a child caught watching porn for the first time. His voice had been set into a disturbingly calm low tremor, words a warning to my person when he spoke out to me.

I didn’t dare talk back then. My body growing hot at Potter’s silent demand of me to keep quiet although I didn’t want it to.

I feared making Potter angry.

And my prick was throbbing at his orders.

_This is not healthy. At all._

Potter’s red green eyes illuminated from beneath the strands of his dark hair as he watched me silently, as if challenging me to speak out of turn.

I wanted to.

But I knew that I shouldn’t.

“Don’t let strangers into your place when you look like a whore. They may think you’re an open invitation to fuck, and we both know you’re a virgin. Wouldn’t want your precious virtue soiled so easily. Mother dearest would roll in her grave.” The Gryffindor’s statements had made my eyes widen in affronted shame, anger and astonishment.

_The fucking bastard._

I opened my mouth to snap at him, my cheeks glowing, when the low thrum of a soft suction sound echoed throughout the entirety of my room, a ricocheting deafening buzz that made my ears ring with a familiarity. I didn’t even get the time to blink or speak when I found myself sitting alone in my room, blood, dead body, and Potter gone.

The man apparated.

Without magic.

And my studio apartment looked completely clean of any evidence from what just happened.

The Gryffindor _left_ me. With no answers and more confused than I’ve ever been. He also left me with a hard cock and a throbbing, hurt chest from the man’s jabs at my person.

I started to breathe heavily again, feeling an incoming mental breakdown ensue.

Why did Potter taste blood as if he's done it many times? That wasn't something a regular human being would do. And the Gryffindor didn't seem fazed at all by killing someone. How did Potter learn how to throw a dagger like _that?_

What made me want to claw my eyes out was the knowledge that Potter  _knew_ I was a virgin!

But two thoughts came to me that left me in more of a fluster.

_How did Potter know where I lived? And how did he know where my switchblade was hidden?_

 

* * *

 

There was no news in the Daily Prophet about the so called “murders” that the fake Kingsley had told me about.

I waited for my mail with my ears straining to hear footsteps outside of my apartment for the mailman since I was too poor to have an Owl drop me off my mail.

No word about Astringent.

I was so confused.

Murmuring incoherent words beneath my breath, I padded barefoot across the cool wood of my floor, the tips of my fingers playing with the bottom hem of my shirt as I paced from one end of my apartment to the other, trying to figure out what happened between Potter and I. Why wouldn’t he tell me anything and why was someone faking to be the head Auror of the Ministry of Magic? Why was Potter going around killing people like he’s done it before, with no remorse or hesitation?

_Why the hell was Potter licking blood?!_

Chewing on the insides of my cheeks, I shook my head profusely to ward off any incoming images of Potter’s hot tongue running along the shining red of his dagger to taste someone’s blood with a calm demeanor, those long dark lashes of his brushing against the sharp lines of his cheekbones as he hummed around the liquid flooding his mouth.

“Bloody hell!” I screamed out in agitation, my body filling with warmth as I walked even faster across the width of my floor.

I needed a distraction.

Perhaps I could go out for a little walk and get some fresh air? Potter told me to forget about everything, and thinking this much for the past day was making my head throb, an insufficient buzzing headache settling at my temples.

Huffing out an air of exaltation, I walked over to my little closet to throw on a pair of skinny blue jeans that hugged my arse and the long stretch of my legs snugly, form fitting around the small of my waist and over the jut of my hip bones with a comfortable clinging. I got the jeans from a muggle store in London last week since the clothes in the muggle world were significantly cheaper than the ones in the wizard world. I put on a loose fitted, long sleeved blue top to match with my jeans and a black trench coat to cover up the whole of my body so no one would really notice the dainty frame of my figure and have a chance to make fun of me for it. I knew people here were itching to have an excuse to make harsh remarks at me, simply for being an ex death eater and a Malfoy. I didn’t need to give them more leverage over my diminished confidence.

I also put on my black coat to cover up the switchblade I put in my front pocket just in case I ran into some trouble. 

Shoving on some black combat boots, I didn’t dare bother with my chaos of a hair and instead pulled it up into a messy bun, some strands falling loose to curve around my cheeks and around my temples as few locks tried to fall into the part of my mouth.

Deeming myself fit to go out into the public, I made sure to put on a pair of dark blue gloves to match my top and walked out of my apartment with a slam of my door, energy buzzing beneath my skin as I walked down the black colored metal balcony to climb down the stairs at the end of the hall. I wanted an apartment that wasn’t on ground level with the building, given the fact that I liked looking at the whole of the town from five stories high.

Breathing in the frigid air surrounding me, I let out a contented sigh.

I had no way of getting any information on Potter. I contained no form of magic to help me sneak into places that could have a semblance of history involving the Gryffindor after the war, and consideirng everyone hated my guts, I don’t think I’d be helped either.

_Just be a good little kitten for Potter._

I let out a shuddering breath, my booted feet walking down the brick covered alleyway while I took in the silence of the area, my footsteps a little heavier than usual with the awful burst of irritation I had from remembering what Potter called me.

_You’re also getting all hot and bothered by the nickname Potter gave you, even though he meant it as an insult._

Feeling the edges of my mouth turn down, I looked around at the quiet town, neglecting my impending thoughts and finding that the brick road streets were without any other human figure.

Sunday was never busy.

The wizard world loved their Sundays with a heavy dose of laziness. Work never was allowed on a this particular day of the week.

“Seems like he found something pretty to play with.” A resounding raspy voice spoke right behind me, quaking with an undertone that led to an assuming thought that the person must have screamed hard enough once to damage their vocal chords so thoroughly by the breaking pitch tones.

I blinked, my head snapping around along with my body as I tried to find out who spoke.

My back went stiff when my chest collided with someone who was a sliver of space away from my turned figure, breath hitching in my throat when the person I smacked right into looked as pale as the cloudy sky above my head and watched me with hooded black eyes and gaunt like features.

Leaning back away from the man, my brows furrowed into a confused drawl, mouth thinning out as I watched the guy before me tilt his lips up into a crazed grin, the black rot of his teeth causing my stomach to lurch as he breathed out his next words to me. “ Let me tell you something …”

The man leaned forward, snatching his hand out to grip a hold of my cheeks between the grime of his thumb and middle finger. My mind was too shocked to send off warning signals to my body to warn me of the man and run. I stood frozen on the spot as the pale figure squeezed the sides of my face hard enough to cause an umfortable, fear tinged, cringe to formulate across my pinched, astounded features.

The guy continued to speak, his words hollowed out and ringing with a roughened scratch in his pitching voice. “Don’t fill your mouth with heat, but with fire, let it scorch the insides of that plush, silken mouth of yours. The rattling in your chest is going to become a tremulous craving, delirious and wanton with a need. I’m giving you a warning. Be wary of a condemned, wretched being. My dear boy, keep cautious, before those eyes of yours are left with a colorless want. You’ll be made up of ruin.”

I stared back at the man, the expanding meat of my lungs trapped within the confines of my rib cage as it felt like they were suffocating with a heady sense of profuse disorientation.

_What the hell was this guy talking about?_

Why was a man who looked like he was about to topple over any second now, covered in ripped clothes that shown the marrow of his boney figure, giving out riddles in the middle of winter in one of the various walkways belonging to Diagon Alley?

Was this guy even in his right mind?

“Sir, I think you’ve got the wrong person.” I whispered it lowly to the both of us, licking my bottom lip in an anxious flick of my tongue while the man’s beady, black eyes narrowed in on the movement with a leer.

“Such a pure boy. Keep yourself that way.” The guy responded in kind to my words.

I took a wry step away from him, shivering at the cold sweeping around the whole of my skin as I felt the cool breeze tickle my clothed limbs.

Giving the man a slow shake of my head, I let out a puff of steamy air into the cold atmosphere, fingernails scratching against the skin of my palm as I kept my gaze fixated on the pale man before me. “I don’t understand.”

Which was the honest truth.

I didn’t even know this man and he expected me to take his words to heart? What’s this about warning me of something that was significantly wrong for me? Instead of it being “something”, what if it turned out to be “someone” instead? I barely knew anyone anymore. No one seemed to want to be anywhere near me let alone want anything to do with me, so how could I be in danger if I didn’t associate myself with anyone.

Besides, I’m always in potential danger since I was someone who was widely hated. I’m surprised I haven’t been killed yet from all the threats and spiteful looks I endure throughout any normal day of mine.

The man watched me with those Stygian eyes of his, black orbs seeming to soak my every thought into his thin, emaciated frame. The chapped line of his lips cracked at the skin as the guy let a huge smile spread across his eerie face. I wasn’t judging him for his appearance, rather, he looked like a man in need of help at most, even if he was spewing out weird shit to me in the middle of the day.

“Poor thing.” That was the last phrase the weird guy said before he left me here, in the streets with a dumbfounded expression. There was no sound of the man’s disappearance, the whole of his body seeming to have vanished from my line of sight like he was popping in and out of existence, no noise following his departure as he vanished.

_This is some voodoo shite._

Perhaps I should go to the doctors and check for any head injuries? Abnormal things keep happening to me. First Potter, then a fake Kingsley getting killed by the Golden Boy and now a skeleton looking kind of man giving me a series of riddled words. 

_What is happening right now!?_

Jutting out my bottom lip, I actually lifted my right foot and stomped it against the hard surface of the brick covered street, the smack of my booted sole ricocheting off of the walls of the multiple buildings around me.

“Mother _fucking_ shite! I just wanted to get some fresh air!” I hissed out my angered words to the empty air, the flush of my skin bitten cold from the freezing air touching every nook and cranny of my body.

“You're not hard to find, Draco.” I squeaked when another voice spoke right beside me, the air of a sultry, high pitch, rich tone sounding throughout the entirety the streets into my left ear and causing my heart to collide with my chest in harsh palpitations.

Before I could turn around and face the person with the oddly familiar, feminine drawl, I was grabbed at over my upper arm, nails blunting into my clothed flesh as I felt the dizzying sensation of an apparition suck me into its energy streamed portal. The significant _pop!_ was loud and echoing in the hollows of my ears as my stomach roiled with a dipping sensation that went in either direction, as if all of my organs were being scrambled around while my head and eyes blurred for a vehement moment.

I forgot how godsawful apparating was.

I wasn’t prepared for the wave of nausea to hit every nerve of my limbs and the floating weightlessness of my body for the short period of time as I was teleported from one spot to the next.

When the balls of my feet clashed with a leveled ground, my knees buckled the slightest bit, the air rushing past my lungs as I swayed from side to side, the wave of dizziness filtering through my head.

The same voice that held a confident intonation spoke up again, the hand on my arm releasing and causing me to plant both my feet firmly onto the ground as I blinked away the vast array of colors playing across my peripheral view. “Sorry about that, I forgot you don’t use magic anymore.”

Granger.

That’s who the voice belonged to from beside me.

“Do care to remember if you ever do that monstrosity of a teleportation technique on me again. I don’t appreciate not being warned about my insides getting jostled around like a game of scrabble, _Granger_.” My voice came out clipped and jilted with gritted hurt as my vision started to clear and I looked to my side to give a good glare towards the curly haired redhead standing oh so nonchalantly next to me with a smirk playing at the corners of her pink glossed lips.

The woman before me was outstandingly beautiful, her auburn hair falling down her back in spiraling strands at her curving, small waist. Granger wore pale pink slacks with cream colored high heels and a silky white top that shown off her goddess like figure. Doe brown eyes stared back at me as I suddenly felt very inadequate next to her.

Last time I saw Granger, really, was when she slapped me for being a brat.

I deserved it.

And I didn’t want a repeat of it. When Granger had slapped me out of anger and my own snarky words back in Hogwarts during the war, I had to hold back a whimper at the sharp claw of her nails piercing the side of my cheek and later on after I rushed to get out of the Golden Trio's sight, bawled like a baby.

“Still full of sass, I see. Why don’t you stop trying to burn me alive with your eyes and take a look around you. I’ll explain to you what’s happening when you do.” Granger’s response was haughty and dipped in amused filter.

Despite not wanting to do as Granger told me to, I did as she said out of confusion and pure curiosity.

And when I did, I figured I needed a really good explanation about what’s going on, because being surrounded by a crowd of people decked out in black armored uniforms really made my whole life even more complicated.

_Everything is a fucking mess._

 

* * *

 

The place before me was covered in white washed walls, a brightness that was such a light color that it could have blinded someone if not for the steel doors and blood covering both the grounds and walls, giving the large ballroom sized area a tiny splash of scheme.

The color red, mystified across the white matted floors, the scent of blood hot and heavy in the air as musky sweat mingled together with the metallic smell.

The ceilings were high, the large of the room seeming to stretch on for miles as people clad in combat outfits slammed against one another with a smack of fists, feet and grunting exhalations.

People of all genders came at each other like trained fighters, jabbing against each other’s weak points as human bodies flung together with a series of pained gasps or huffs of straining breaths. The clashing of metal clanged around the surface of the area, my eyes tracking the varying shapes of sharp edged weapons being thrown across the room with steady glides in rather precise attempts to cut one another up.

Each person’s face was impassive, although at some points during their harsh fighting, I could make out the slight creases on their features that indicated the distress they were trying to hide.

_This place resembled war, if one broke out in the dawnings of heaven._

I tried not to grimace whenever the cracking sound of bones shattering or limbs breaking slid into my ears.

“Where am I? What’s happening, Granger?” My words came out quiet and overwhelmed.

The past two days were just a mess, and my poor mind was trying to keep up with everything. There was too much unanswered questions going on and I needed them answered.

Sliding my gaze back towards Granger, the redhead simply pressed her lips together and leveled her gaze with mine, her body fully turning to face towards my own as I twisted around to face her head on.

“I’m here to bring you to a man who runs an underground wizard assassination facility that no one knows about unless we want them to. What you’re seeing around you are a bunch of people who have trained themselves with their blood and bones to be the most highly wanted killers known to both human and wizard worlds. You’re here because of a sticky situation that requires this facility to take you in and make sure you’re not dead by the end of the day. You won’t know of the location this company resides, nor will you ever know. Our boss will be explaining more about the problem you’re in once he gets here, so why don’t you just stand there and take in what I’ve just told you as we wait.” Granger’s words seemed to be rehearsed, long and drawn out with a dull murmur as if she had recited this sort of explanation over and over again to countless others.

And I was reeling.

_You’re in a building filled with professional assassins._

_You’re surrounded by highly skilled killers._

This was not happening.

This shit happened in the kind of novels that I’ve read out of pure need of fiction and trying to escape the realities of the world around me.

Assassins are not supposed to exist for fucks sake!

Did the Ministry know about this sort of facility? Why am I in a “sticky situation” as Granger called it? Was it because I had gone to Astringent and supposedly am suspected for murdering people who I didn’t kill? Was the information the fake Kingsley told me was real?

How did Granger even get involved with assassins? She’s the most morally civilized person I know. Granger having to work with hired killers doesn’t sound right to me. The damn redhead has always been all gung ho about peace and rights.

What was so peaceful about working for a company that kills for a living?

I was brought here because I was wanted. For what reason? I had no idea.

My attention was diverted elsewhere when the crowd of killers parted just the tiniest amount to let a man walk through.

The guy was packing a ton of muscle on him, although lean in his frame. He looked around his mid thirties, towering over my person as he walked with leisured steps towards me. The man was gorgeous so to say, his body clad in a rich, black suite that hugged the taut muscles he displayed with every minute shift he took, hair the color of dirty blonde, ranging from shades of golden like threads to an agate crystalline hue of light brown, cut short above his ears and long at the top. He walked with an air similar to the way Granger carried herself, with immense confidence and a dangerous teasing aura about himself.

Eyes the color of cerulean blue shimmered in the man’s gaze, reminding me an ocean’s crashing azure waves folding into its own body of water, his eyes zeroing in on my stature like person as I had to hold back the need to sneer at him with the way he cocked his brow in a mocking gesture, all high and mighty in the face of my stricken confusion.

_Behave, Draco._

Two burly men followed on each of his sides as the crowd of weapon and physically skilled killers parted for the well dressed man, whom I assumed was their boss because the loud breaths and spewed, fighting spurred words seized to a halt as a quiet filled the large room.

My pulse quickened along with nerves that settled into the my queasy gut.

The blue eyed boss appeared in front of me, a sly smirk playing at his lips as he watched me with an eerie focus.

It was funny how the man didn’t exude the intimidation that Potter did. I was not as in fear of this guy as I was when Potter was around.

“Well aren’t you a pretty little thing. I hardly believe a cute boy like you can be a brat like everyone claims you are.” The man’s voice wasn’t what I expected, it was leveled. There was a calm tone to it that could have probably made me fall asleep in potions class with the soothing pitch he drew out of his smirking mouth if he was my professor back then.

Tilting my head up, my chin rose as I narrowed my eyes up at the blue eyed man, the line of my lips a heavy frown that I was sure shown the immense displeasure I felt with everything happening around me.

I didn’t want to play around, and I wanted answers. Now.

“Listen, I was just apparated here like a rag doll. Which hasn’t happened to me in years because I’m not allowed to use magic for the sole reason that I was a soldier of Voldemort. Although I mean no harm to anyone, nor am I a threat to anyone because I have no weapon, no magic, and no family, I need answers because I’ve witnessed someone being stabbed in the head and apparently I’m being accused of murders that I haven’t done, if there were murders to begin with anyway. Now cut the bullshit and the nice manners. What am I here for?” I was straight to the point, my voice monotonous in my non amusement as I glared up at the boss of this assassination facility.

_If you’re killed, it’s because you can’t keep your mouth shut._

I was getting real tired of all this confusing shit though.

Pretending that I wasn’t as anxious as I knew I was from the want I felt to bury my head beneath concrete and stay there with the way my breaths tried to wheeze pass the tiny quiver of my mouth, I held myself very still in case my legs decided to give out on me and leave me haphazard on the floor in a pool of apprehension.

The room felt like the air itself cluttered around my person. It was so stifled with tension.

The blue eyed man stared me down with a lazy frown now marring his once bemused expression. “You’ve also got a bitchy mouth on you. Sort of makes me want to show you how to use it correctly, love. Why don’t you hold your breath and come with me to my office so we can speak in private.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but the blue eyed man had stopped whatever I was about to say by having my focus obscure from watching him reach behind his back to procure a red wood cut jagged wand with his right hand and swish it with a flourish around both our bodies in a circular motion above our heads. That same queasy sensation of magically induced teleportation stuffed its way over and into my body as I found myself gritting my teeth to keep from sneering at the boss once we landed in a dark brown room.

The confident man pointed at the chair positioned in front of a glass desk as he rounded it and plopped himself down into the cushioned brown leather office chair opposite of mine behind the desk.

I stood where I was, beside an artistic painting that looked like complete utter shit with its drawing of the French Revolutionary war.

The man let out a sigh as he watched me stand stubbornly next to his horrid painting, my arms crossed over my chest to try and make myself look like I wasn’t having a miniature panic attack at the moment.

“I’m Hezian Costellio, one of the many head leaders of this assassination facility that goes by the name, _Arte et Marte,_ a latin phrase that means “by skill and valour”. This place’s focus is training and assigning future wizard soldiers that go undercover to complete a task that the Ministry of Magic does not partake in because we deal with the dirty deeds. We deal with killing people for the sake of the citizen’s safety and to prevent world wide known catastrophes from happening. Arte et Marte is a place that assures protection of anyone in danger of harm but it’s also a place where assassins do what they are expected, and that is to get their jobs done even if they have to murder those that get in the way or could pose a small threat.” Hezian’s cerulean eyes gleamed in the dim light of the room, mahogany walls seeming to give the space surrounding me a darker effect of the area.

“And am I here because I'm a threat, or am I here to be protected?” I spoke my words out into the quiet of the room, containing the urge to shuffle my feet awkwardly in an attempt to stave my nerves from rising higher and higher in the turmoil of my body.

_This place is a whole other level._

Hezian’s eyes darkened into more of a Caribbean hue, the blue of his eyes seeming to diminish in its bright tones and produce a heavy set of severe prominence. “Your boss, Andrew, was found dead the night you went to Astringent to do his dirty work. It seems Andrew got in touch with one of the most dangerous dragon affiliated faction that deals with the dark arts and wizard trafficking. They go by _Animadverto,_ another latin term that means “to turn the mind to” or “perceive”, basically a faction that wants to make itself sound fancy when their doing shite things to people for the sake of another’s pleasure. Literally. They want others to take notice and interest in combining dark arts and sexual practice together, which usually ends up with a disturbing case of fucking the dead, like necrophilia.”

_Jesus fucking christ._

I didn’t hold back the disgusted curl of my mouth, a drench of trepidation and disturbed countenance flooding my system from what Hezian was telling me.

Andrew was associating himself with _those_ kinds of people. I was working under a man who went out of his way to help a faction that took pleasure from killing people so they could fuck them for their own sick fantasies.

And the Ministry of Magic didn’t have the fucking balls to do anything about it. I bet they knew of the sick things Animadverto was doing but they’d have to get their own hands dirty to stop the dark arts group and that would make them look bad because they were all so adamant on making the wizard world look like a nice and happy place when in reality, it was far from it. Better to hide the ugly than to deal with it and make the citizen’s think they were safe when they really weren’t.

Assholes.

Deciding that I needed to sit down for this, I trailed over to the chair Hezian pointed at for me to sit on when we first arrived in his office, and sat precariously on the edge of my seat, uncomfortable still with a stranger who was telling me a whole bunch of alarmingly disturbing things.

I felt mentally and physically weak hearing it.

Hezian’s handsome features turned into an angered crease as his lips turned down into a furious frown of disconcertment. “Andrew gave you a file that he claimed was a manuscript but in reality, was a pile of papers that shown a list of ‘customers’ wanting to get into Animadverto. Trisko was a boy that was raised in Animadverto since he was little and was originally assigned to be the man to bring the people into this dark arts factional business. Potter, who works here, was assigned to get the papers from Trisko in anyway he could. You were the one that carried those papers and was seen last with them before Potter killed Trisko, took his file, and brought it here. Unfortunately, Jazine was curious about Mr. Potter because he wasn’t very covert about his appearance as the Chosen One, and went to the room right when Potter killed Trisko, so she had to be terminated for witnessing the murder as well.” Hezian let out a ragged breath, his forehead creasing with lines of wariness and frustration.

I listened in silence, waiting to hear more as I sat patiently.

Potter was going around killing people like it was nothing but a job to him, which was exactly what he was doing.

Everything was coming together now.

“We got the Daily Prophet to keep the murders in Astringent from going public so no one could go snooping around and find out about Animadverto and get themselves killed. But we couldn't convince them from not posting about Andrew's murder in a few days. Before the fucker died, he ratted you out about having contained the files of the factions promising customers to one of Animadverto’s leaders when they followed the little magical traces Potter left at the club when he used it and heard some witnesses talk about you being there with an envelope. And so they wanted to come after you, thinking that you gave Potter the files and knew where he was so they could come after him. That person who looked like Kinglsey was a shapeshifter who was part of Animadverto assigned to come after you and Potter to get a hold of the files.” Hezian looked way older than he really was right now, the crinkle in his brow seeming to deepen.

I already knew where this was going, so I tried helping Hezian along with his long explanation. “I’m guessing Potter found out about someone from Animadverto coming for me and decided to kill him before he could do whatever he wanted with me, so no need to explain that. But what I want to know is, am I here to be protected from that heinous faction or am I to be exterminated because of being involved in this?”

Potter killed Jazine just for witnessing him murdering the boy he fucked to get a file of papers.

I could be on the list to get rid of if Arte et Marte decided that I wasn’t really their problem and that they could easily kill me so I wouldn’t be a danger in giving out any information about this assassination facility or Animadverto.

Hezian gave me a small smile, but it wasn’t very calming to my nerves. “You’re here to be protected. Despite you having been a death eater in your life, you haven’t done anything to be considered a danger now. Since you had the unfortunate circumstances in being involved in a large, threatening and death inducing situation with Animadverto, we decided to help you out. I’m assigning someone to have you safe and secure until we kill Animadverto so they won’t come to harm you.”

That sounded too good to be true.

There was a catch.

“What do you want in exchange, because surely, you wouldn’t want to go through all this trouble just to keep an ex death eater safe and sound. What do you want from me, Hezian?” I spoke with a finality in my voice, pitch coming out in a steely tone as I looked into Hezian’s odd blue hued eyes.

I could see the man’s lips twitching, as if he was holding back a grin, causing my irritation with the situation to worsen, my anxiety bubbling higher beneath the confines of my skin as I tried to keep my breathing levelled and not start panicking from what I was hearing. “You’re smart. I’ll give you that. You’re a Malfoy with a lot of money. We want access to the Malfoy money that you don’t use to get one of my assassins a spot in Animadverto since they like their customers having a lot of money for their business and you, Mr. Malfoy, haven’t gone anywhere near what your family has left behind financially wise. So let us use your money, and you’ll have your protection.”

Ah.

So that was what they wanted.

My father and mother left a tremendous amount of money when they both died and I haven’t went anywhere near their different accounts considering that I didn’t want anything to do with them, even after death. I had this notion that if I were to use the money my parents left behind, then I would be in debt to those two despite their lives having been long done for. And it made me feel like I was just another one of those rich spoiled brats that wanted their dead parents money when in reality, I had to do chores and behave just as much as any other child that wanted an allowance from their parents when they were alive. I also wanted to earn my money, not be given it.

So Lucius’s and Narcissas’s money was untouched by my hands up until now. I sort of had a plan to give the large amounts of cash over to charity cases, orphanages, and to countries that needed the money for food, water and such other living expenses that I had the privilege of having while others didn’t. I wouldn’t be using the money, I’d be giving it away to those who needed it.

And it seemed that Arte et Marte needed the money to stop a large faction of psychotic killers from running a disturbing business.

_This whole situation was fucked up._

I did want protection from Arte et Marte, and with the fact that I had nothing to protect myself against any dangerous situations, I was powerless to do anything. And I would be doing something good for the wizard world for once by getting rid of Animadverto. I had enough experience in death and I didn’t want others to have to deal with that sort of stuff and have their mental states ruined.

I wanted to help.

I wanted to be safe

Looking up at Hezian from beneath my lashes, I finally replied to his proposition, my heart giving a rather harsh thud against my rib cage as I sucked in a large amount of air to give me enough energy to speak my words. “I’ll give you the money. You stop Animadverto and keep me safe and we’ll have a deal.”

I couldn’t believe this shit was happening to me.

I couldn’t comprehend how Potter and Granger were associated with assassins when, back in Hogwarts, they wanted nothing to do with killing. Now they were both involved with a secret company that specializes in training people to do just that.

Potter was an assassin.

And I was someone unfortunate enough to get mixed up in all of this mess.

Hezian spoke through my bundle of thoughts. “The Ministry of Magic doesn’t know about Arte et Marte, so don’t think that you could come to them for help because they’ll just think you’re crazy. Andrew was found dead shortly after the murders in Astringent and the people at your work are blaming you for it, so it would be safe to be protected by us and keep a low profile. I thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Malfoy.”

I gave a raise of my brow towards Hezian. “If I didn’t cooperate, I think I wouldn’t be coming out of this place alive. So no need to thank me. You can do that when I see Animadverto eradicated. And then I’ll give you my gratitude once I know I won’t end up in a ditch somewhere.”

_This is insane._

I was going to go through with this. And I didn’t have much hesitation about it considering what I heard about the heinous faction. There was enough turmoil in the wizard world what with the war and all. There didn’t need to be another big event that made the people fear about stepping out of their own homes.

_You hate having empathy._

I knew that no one like me because of my past, but that didn’t mean I was going to stand by and let people be killed for such disgusting reasons. They may think I deserve to rot somewhere, but despite their hate, the wizard world is all I’ve ever known and the innocent citizens should be kept safe.

_You don’t want anymore deaths._

_You’ve had enough of that shit._

Hezian grinned from behind his desk, eyes roving over the whole of my face as he examined me openly.

I didn’t like that.

“Deal. Now you need to be taken to a safe location with only the best of my assassins. I think it’d be good if you get reacquainted with one of them first. I’ll be sending you off to where he’ll be then I'm sure he'll take it from there. I’ll contact him to get to you about the money. Have a good day, Mr. Malfoy.” I lurched forward, face pinching into that of a cringe as my mouth popped open to release an annoyed protest when I gave an internal scream at having seen Hezian take his wand out and swish it in my direction, once again apparating my body elsewhere.

 

 

* * *

 

 

I was going to be sick by the end of this day.

That wanker, Hezian, knew that I was going to go through with his plan, and already had people assigned to me so quick!

“Bloody hell! How many times must I have to go through with this stupid teleportation technique!? My insides are going to be _damaged_ by the time I’m through with this shite.” I cursed out my words angrily, hunching forward to catch my breath and close my eyes from the nauseating sensation tingling in my stomach and the thudding pricks inside of my head that gave it a dull throb of pain.

That’s when my ears picked up an indefinite sound of heavy pounding, similar to that of a sack being thrown onto the floor, over and over with a precise tempo like the steady thrum of my heart beat.

Pressing my lips together, I breathed in and out through my nose to keep myself from vomiting, blinking rapidly as I straightened back up to see where the hell I was apparated to while I played with the insides of my cheeks between the bite of my teeth.

I felt all the air leave my mouth, oxygen drained from my body like an deflating balloon.

Harry Potter stood in the middle of a room decked out in pitch black walls, one fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling above Potter’s unruly onyx colored head of hair.

I couldn’t breathe.

A chain hung from beside the light bulb, connecting into the ceiling as the iron tint glinted beneath the low light, my eyes following down the length of the chain to a dark red punching bag dangling from the end of the iron links. The bag was beaten and torn apart at its leather skin to show the tufts of its insides.

Potter wore a black military waistcoat vest, dark leather fitting to the lean and muscled frame of his tall body. The short sleeves displayed the shifting portions of his muscular arms, biceps flexing with each calming exhale he breathed out through his flaring nostrils as he brought the long of his arms back to tighten his fists beneath the creaking leather of his boxing, finger cut off gloves, and whip his hand forward to slam them into the crevices of the bag,  causing it to swing forwards and up, it’s chain link creaking and rattling from almost unhinging itself from it’s connection.

I could make out the veins in Potter’s straining, exposed arms, a light sheen of sweat covering the whole of his light bronzed skin as he flung out one first after another, a series of quick jabs that my eyes couldn’t catch from how blurring his motions were.

Potter’s matching black cargo pants lined with pockets at the sides hung off of his defined hips with every minute shift he made, black boots accompanying his attire as he stood in one spot and threw one punch after the next. I could make out his knuckles pushing against the fabric of his gloves, the material crinkling beneath the constant movement of his hands as he tightened his fists or opened them to shake the strain of his long fingers from their curled position.

The sight of Potter was breathtaking and etched in sin.

Heat coiled tight in the hollow of my gut, warmth spreading down my thighs to sluice in between and play over the twitching of my groin.

I sucked in the bottom flesh of my lip, moving from one foot to the next as I felt a blush coat my cheeks at the image I was I seeing before me.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck._

“U-uhm … Potter?” My words were spoken through a crack in my voice, the sound high and unnerved as I chewed over the skin of my lip in my fidgety state, my eyes running up the long, toned figure of the assassin in front of me, watching with awe and thrilling visage at the way Potter’s messy hair licked at the smooth skin of his forehead and cheeks as slick strands fell into the mint emerald illuminate green of his eyes, the tendrils of garnet red seeping into the jade like entangled strings.

Hezian sent me off to meet up with one of his best soldier's, and this was who it was.

Harry _fucking_ Potter.

And the man was not giving me his attention still.

“It would be really nice if you looked at me w-while I talk-” My words were halted when Potter gave a particularly too hard of a punch against the bag, the sound deafening to my ears. It made the thing tear itself away from its hook on the chain and bang against the wall opposite from where Potter stood.

My eyes practically bulged out of my head at watching the heavy sack burst apart at the seams and spew out its innards over the expanse of the concrete floor, fabric torn as the poor bag was officially rendered broken and disabled.

The impact of Potter’s punch was terrifying.

Potter was a fucking monster.

Where is all this strength coming from?! There was no way a regular wizard or muggle could have _that_ much physical power.

“Take your coat off.” Potter’s voice dripped with gravelled prevalence, a husky murmur that made my thighs give a shudder and my knees buckle the smallest of an amount, groin giving an insistent throb as my lungs seemed to stop its regular operative system from the sound of the Gryffindor’s words.

I stood in my frozen position, confused by Potter’s words but heating up all the same.

Watching Potter grip the velcro wrapped around his right wrist, I jolted on the spot from the impending _rip!_ of the gloves, the velcro tearing itself away with the easy swipe from Potter’s left hand peeling it off. The sound induced my stomach to roil as I felt my bottom lip tremble at the violent, rough movement. An enticing, sinister motion that was shamefully arousing to my person.

Potter still didn’t look at me.

Feeling significantly bratty and hot and bothered, I tried to cover up the indecency my body procured upon itself from simply watching Potter by raising my chin up and glaring at the knelt head of the Gryffindor as he undid the gloves from his other hand. “Why should I listen to you when you don’t even acknowledge my presence?”

Hah!

I didn’t stutter this time! Although I could hear my voice shake.

“Didn’t know you were such an attention whore for me.” Potter murmured back, voice pitching in its husky tone as he let the green and ruby glow of his gaze slowly slide over to where I stood, watching me from the corners of his eyes as he gave another careless tug on his left wrist this time and caused me to yelp out at the intruding sound of the velcro dislodging from the base of his glove through the hush of the dark room.

And I went scarlett at Potter’s words.

“I-I’m not, why would you-what is-that w-was unnecessary!” My voice was ridiculously high in my screech of astonishment and shame, my eyes large as my brows furrowed in agitated heat.

Potter rose his brows up at me, a gesture that looked absurdly handsome on him as he tilted his head, the tufts of his black hair brushing across the sharp high of his cheekbones and over the chartreuse of his eyes. “Take off your coat. Don’t make me say it again, Malfoy.”

The Gryffindor’s tone was sluiced with indifference, toneless and cold. It made a shudder race down my spine from his daunting voice.

It made me feel wary, an itching need to crawl out of my own skin.

Potter made me feel vulnerable, and that was terrifying.

Whenever I’m scared, I tend to be a bitch just to cover up my fear. I remember my mother and father telling me to never let anyone see how much someone affected me because it shows weakness. My go to method was to become a brat to hide whatever hurt or fear I felt.

And I became exactly that.

“What makes you think you can order me around-” I yelped out, mouth dropping open to release a scorched whimper when a gust of air, hot and sizzling with pronounce energy skewered into and around me.

My eyes widened when I felt the buzzing essence of magic shoving itself through the material of my coat to tear it away from my body with a forceful yank on my person.

The magic was sinister and rapturous, coveting the whole of my body as I sucked in a surprised gasp and stared, wide eyed, at the way Potter released the air from his lungs in an appallingly leisure like motion, the heavy jade and red of his eyes brewing with shadowed hues as the Gryffindor traced the way the coat ripped down the length of my arms and fell in a heap at my feet with his gaze.

I was shaking, the magic surrounding me heady with power and dominance, a darkness settling into the fast beating of my veins and making me suckle in the flesh of my bottom lip to keep myself from crying out at the abnormally ardent sensation.

The magic was suddenly gone as quick as it came, leaving my body with a taunting caress over my flesh as I tried to catch my breath.

The essence of the magic was familiar, but more foreboding and menacing.

It came from Potter, who stood there with his face set into harsh lines as those eyes of his reflected nothing of his thoughts.

I trembled from where I was settled, feeling a weakness in my legs when Potter’s magic released its fraying, ravenous hold on me.

My cock was hard.

And I was scared.

“Turn around.” Potter’s voice resonated with a thunderous roil.

_Potter’s magic was pure seduction and covetous._

_It was dangerous._

I was both in shock and heat from it, frustrated at the Gryffindor for making me feel so powerless in his presence and liking it. I couldn’t stop my stubborn protest against Potter’s words. He made me angry at how easily he made me feel bare in his wake.

A stupid part of me wanted Potter to do that again, the part where my crush lied dormant and hidden for him. This was the first time he was giving me attention despite him treating me like a nuisance for it.

_You need to set your priorities straight._

“No. You can’t just do whatever you want with me-” I felt flayed at the skin, exposed to Potter’s eyes even though I still had my clothes on. My protest died on my lips when one second I was watching Potter from a good few feet of a distance away from each other, and the next, hot, large hands had gripped the sides of my waist and twisted me around with a single twitch of a wrist.

I squeaked when my front was shoved against the hard surface of a wall, mouth turning slack when I was pushed into it with a harsh prominence that made the hard of my cock rub up against the flat of the wall.

I let out a whine, high and breathy, out of my mouth when the scent of Potter’s body blanketed me while the warmth of his bare fingers skimmed over the curve of my waist, skating in between the hem of my jeans and top as the blistering heat that Potter’s frame eluded blazed against my bowed back.

My cheek pressed against the wall, my arms flailing about from the sudden dizzy turn of my body and Potter’s hands branding themselves into my flesh.

“Wh-what the _fuck,_ Potter. What’s the meaning of t-t-this!” I was frantic in his hands, not used to having people randomly touch me so intimately, my mind swirling from the fast events happening around me and to me.

I felt the hot heat of Potter’s thigh push up into the sprawl of my legs, dragging up the insides of my own jean clad thighs as he shoved his muscular leg up against the bottom of my throbbing cock and arse.

I twitched in his grip, breaths rushing out of my mouth when I was all but brought up onto the tips of my boots, toes curling in on themselves when Potter pressed his leg snugly between my own spread out ones, causing me to run the flat of my torso up the wall even more.

“Stop giving me sass. Keep still.” The Gryffindor’s words were coated in a threatening drawl, deep and reaching into the center of my chest to grasp the erratic pounding of my heart as my hips quivered over the length of Potter’s thigh and pressed against the wall even more, my throbbing cock weeping from the pressure Potter put against it.

My face was set aflame at the position I found myself in, words getting caught in my throat when I tried to push off the wall to get Potter away from me, his closeness making me feel like I was going to explode.

_Holy shite._

_This is too much._

_Ohfuckohfuckohfuck!_

My arse slid up and down the top of Potter’s thigh from the constant fidget I was in.

Why was Potter doing this?!

Gasping, I brought down my left hand to clutch at Potter’s knee between my legs to keep from toppling sideways since I was literally dangling from his thigh that kept me suspended up in the air and against the wall.

“Put me down, y-y-you bas-” My mouth was covered by the heat of Potter’s left hand palm, the sweat of his skin salty and musky against the part of my lips as I breathed in through my nose and into his hand.

I used my other hand to place it against the wall in an effort to keep myself from falling sideways, my heart beating so fast that I thought it would rip itself out of my chest and onto the concrete floor beneath me.

Potter’s free hand thrummed the rough pads of his fingertips against the sliver of skin above my jeans waist line at my front, causing me to cry out into the Golden Boy’s palm, the swift dip in my stomach causing me to jerk against the wall as warmth infused itself in my groin. Potter tapped against the sensitive skin above my groin with his fingers, causing my breath to come out faster as I moistened the skin of Potter’s hand and wetted my lips from the perspiration of my harsh breathing.

The soft plush of Potter’s mouth grazed the skin beneath my left ear as his hot breath whooshed over the flesh there and elicited my frame to shake like a leaf rustling in the wind as he spoke lowly into my ear. “Talk back to me again. Come on. Let’s see where it gets you.”

I couldn’t.

My prick was trying to escape the confines of my jeans and I had to resist the urge to rock my hips back and forth over the meaty clothed flesh of Potter’s thigh, the hand clutching his knee tensing around its biting grasp as I reflexively dug my nails more into Potter’s knee cap in retaliation.

I was embarrassed and burning up.

Then Potter dropped his leg out from between my legs, only to thrust it back up and cause my arse and cock to bounce up and down off of his thigh, the pressure on my cock turning into bursting proportions as the push against the bottom of my genital and arse produced my back to curve forward and into the wall, my head falling back from the rush of pleasure playing over and inside of my skin.

I let out a broken screech from behind Potter’s palm.

“Oh great, just what I was looking for.” Potter murmured into my ear with the heavy rasp of his voice. I felt Potter’s hand run along the side of my hip where my switchblade was shoved into the front pocket of my jeans where I hidden it behind my coat when I decided to go out walking.

I felt the heavy blade being plucked from out of my pocket as all the air wheezed out of my lungs when I was unceremoniously dropped back onto my feet and released from Potter’s hold, the pressure between my legs gone and my whole body strung up, taut with a tremor in my limbs.

My body fell forward, the open palm of my hands smacking into the wall to catch myself as my breaths came out stunted and broken.

I would not turn around and face Potter.

I was mortified and horny.

I became a mess in the Gryffindor's hands immediately.

My voice seemed to have left me as I tried to breathe steadily and calm both my heart and boner down.

“I suggest you don’t go around carrying a switchblade here because us assassins are paranoid and if we see someone new walking around with a weapon, we tend to get all riled up. Also, don’t get so mouthy with me. I’m having Weasley come over to bring you to a safe location. Behave.” Potter’s voice leveled back into that boring droll, the sound embedding into my frazzled nerves as I heard the unmistakable suctioning noise of magical teleportation pop for a good few seconds throughout the dark of the room.

The bastard left me alone.

_Potter just wanted to teach you a lesson and grab your knife._

Why the hell did he have to do it _that_ way!?

I dropped the front of my forehead against the wall, mentally slamming my head into it from remembering how wrecked I became just a few moments ago from Potter's touch.

_Potter doesn’t like you._

_He was just messing with you._

“Fuck.” I whispered into the silence from the barricading black walls around me.

It seemed I had to wait for Weasley to come and get me. There was no entrance or exit in this room. I assume it was made that way specifically for wizards who can apparate.

This day just keeps getting more chaotic. 

I really need a hot shower now. 

 

 


	3. Deprecate: An Opposition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! Here's the chapter you have all been waiting for, this one is sort of slow but it's here to build up some plot and I have a knack for dragging things out between my future couples. I like making my characters suffer because it's so much sweeter when the time comes for Draco and Harry to finally get somewhere with each other *grins*. Next update will be next weekend. Hope you like this chapter! Please feel free to comment or ask any questions, I love them all. 
> 
> Go on and read!
> 
> PLEASE READ ENDNOTES!! It's about the next update.

 

My forefinger tapped against the flesh of my upper arm, an insistent rhythm that went in time with the steady beating of my heart beneath my chest. The skin of my bottom lip had jutted out to create a significant purse of my mouth, a pout contouring my lips in a display of irritation and defiance.

“So you’re telling me that I can’t bring any of my stuff with me to wherever I’ll be staying at for the next few months?” My voice came out clipped and drenched in bewilderment.

Weasley stared down at me with a raise of his brows, the burnt orange hue of his eyes watching me glare up at his massive frame, the bulging muscles of his arms stretching over the black sweater he wore that complimented the russet red of his unruly hair.

The man was huge and handsome.

_Is everyone from Hogwarts some sort of model now?_

Weasley’s jaw ticked as he blew out an aggravated sigh down at me, which only made me narrow my eyes even more up at him.

The man decided to show up and get me about two hours after Potter left my ass in this dark room. I could tell how Weasley and Potter were friends. Both were bastards that gave no regard for other people. Hell, did they not think that maybe I needed to go to the bathroom or drink water for the past two hours where I was left alone with no way out of this godsforsaken room? They’re lucky that I didn’t.

Weasley had come practically popping into the room and told me that I wouldn’t be needing any of my stuff with where we were headed for my safety.

What the hell was I going to wear for the upcoming months then?

“Granger said that both of you will go shopping for clothes tomorrow after you get settled into the new place. We can’t risk you going back to your dingy apartment and getting killed just because you want your clothes, Malfoy.” Weasley’s voice came out in a low husk, calm and reasonable to say the least.

But having to spend time with Granger was sort of perplexing. I didn’t really know the girl and the times I did shown how much we didn’t get along. Shopping with someone is something that I’ve never done before for the simple fact that I usually did things on my own. I was going to have to suck it up though if I wanted to wear clothes and not walk around nude.

Pressing my lips together, I blew out air through my nose. My arms disentangled themselves from their crossing position over my chest as I went to lift my right hand up to let the soft pads of my fingertips brush against my upper forehead, sweeping away the stray strands of my pale hair from my peripheral view.

“Fine fine. Take me to wherever we’re going then, Weasley.” I replied to the redhead with the soft exhale of my breath, suddenly overwhelmingly tired and ready to go to bed.

I didn’t know where I will be staying for the time being since the Gryffindor  told me that I wasn’t supposed to know until we got there. Something about keeping everything hidden in the shadows for now. If I knew where we were going and I was suddenly compromised, then whoever may have taken me could look into my memories and find out everything that I knew and the place that I was supposed to go. If they knew where I was going, then they might know where Potter was and we couldn’t have some wizard criminals coming after the Golden Boy.

Weasley let out a soft chuckle, causing my gaze to whip back up towards his figure.

“What are you laughing about?” I asked through clenched teeth, annoyed at the man for looking so carefree when I felt like I was one minute away from falling apart with everything that’s happened to me recently.

“You do look like a kitten.” Weasley murmured his words.

_A kitten?_

_Potter called you that._

I subconsciously felt the moue of my mouth turning more into a profound pout as I realized what Weasley had said, a heat coiling tight in my gut from remembering Potter call me by such a nickname. I tried to keep the tremor of my voice from spilling out to hide the embarrassment spreading out over my body. “Did Potter say that? I’m not a fucking kitten, dammit.”

The redhead had the nerve to shrug and turn around on his heel to give me the view of his broad back. “Could have fooled me. Come on, time to leave.”

I sucked in a sharp breath when I watched Weasley swish his redwood wand out at the space in front of him in a circular rotation, over and over again until a soft azure tint of mingling white static started to spark up like the breaking flow of electricity in the center of the space Weasley had motioned around with his wand.

I knew this sort of technique.

It was an old ancient source of magic, a few thousands of years old to say the least.

I yelled out at Weasley above the buzzing noise of kinetic energy, the sound a crescendo in its vast uprising volume that had caused my skin to erupt in miniature goosebumps. “Why are you using apparition apparatus? That takes up too much energy. How do you know this form of magic?”

I didn’t want to admit my concern for Weasley’s well being. Apparition apparatus was an older version of the regular teleportation technique, taking much more magic from the person wielding the spell. It also was a sort of teleportation spell that didn’t make someone feel the need to hurl like I did every time I was put through the quicker apparating spell. Instead of popping into the given destination, the spell shows the area you are supposed to walk into in the space that you are about to leave, like walking through a door to another room. It took a large amount of magic though and made people too loose limbed instead of nauseous, taking quite some time to actually get the spell up and going instead of the more widely known shorter way wizards used today for apparating.

The teleportation doorway started to open up into the length of an oval shape, towering above Weasley's already too tall frame and expanding a good few meters out from the sides, energy a blue sparking haze around the static edges of the circle.

It revealed a room with white polished slate floors and dark navy blue and charcoal grey furniture, the area luxurious in its simplistic shades of colors. A large slanted wall narrowed down to the right that was contained of full glass floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the entire city of Wisixi Podge city. The place looked to be a penthouse that probably was about one hundred levels or so above ground.

I gaped at the place that I could see through the portal.

_You’re going to be staying in Wisixi Podge._

Wisixi Podge was one of the most dangerous cities in the wizard world, cluttered with all sorts of supernatural beings that all tried to get along but most of the time failed doing so. The city was huge, a place that took solace a few miles away from Spinner’s End with its modern like buildings that towered and loomed. Werewolves, vampires, veelas, and a whole bunch of other creatures resided here. Wisixi wasn’t a poor place either, containing supernaturals of high riches who were worse than regular rogue creatures.

I’m going to die here.

Weasley grunted in front of me. “Harry taught me it. And since you look sort of pale in the complexion, I’m guessing you’ve been put through many apparating spells. This one won’t make you sick, so just walk on through. I’ll be fine.”

Of course Potter taught his best friend an ancient form of magic. I bet Potter used the damn spell often, and if Weasley was telling the truth about not getting tired from doing this sort of magic, then he must have upped his skill in the magic arts.

Powerful wizards were astonishing at times.

Especially Potter.

Flicking the tip of my tongue over the skin of my bottom lip, I started towards the portal, rather warily, as Weasley held it open for me by the swishing rotation of his wand. I could make out the tiny drop of sweat gathering at his forehead.

The redhead was causing stress on his body for the sake of making me not hurl by the end of the day from going through another quick work of a simple apparition technique.

Weasley was actually being nice to me.

Huh.

“Thank you.” I spoke my gratitude as I passed Weasley’s shaking form and walked into the portal without any swarm of nausea flooding my system.

I turned around to watch Weasley come in after me and close the spell off, leaving both him and I in the penthouse suite.

He looked a little worn out but seemed fine by the way his hands trembled but his posture straight laced and looming.

Weasley snickered at me then as he went to shove his wand into the back of his jeans pocket, eyeing me with his fire tinged orbs. “Well isn’t that surprising. A Malfoy showing his gratitude for once.”

Okay.

Weasley can go burn in hell for all I care now.

Rolling my eyes, I twisted my head away from him to take in the large expanse of the suite. Marbled walls the color of creamy peach tones took up the entirety of the space, a spiraling staircase made up of black colored steel winding up to the second open floor that was also covered by marbled walls. I was in the living room it looked liked from the entertainment center I stood in the middle of while two hallways on each side of the walls to my left led into different other rooms.

Breathtaking.

The thing that caught my attention the most was the slanted glass walls that shown the city of Wisixi Podge and its glass buildings that towered at the height from which I stood and more. I’ve only been to this place once and that was when I was little when mother wanted to go and have a fancy dinner at one of the restaurants here with one of her rich friends.

The city lights twinkled in the distance and below, lighting up the sapphire streaked midnight sky.

“Granger should be here any minute-” Weasley’s words were cut off when the sound of Granger popping in through apparition magic echoed in the vicinity of the large area. A few bags at her feet.

I watched Granger click her heels towards Weasley, grin up at the man with an air of adoration and vibrating happiness, and tilt her head back to reach up and peck Weasley over the part of his lips with her own. “Hey babe. Neville wants to know if you’re up for drinks later tonight at the Leaky Cauldron? The kids wanted to visit with your mother and I thought we could have some relaxation later, just you, me, and our friends.”

Whoa.

So they’ve got little redhead children now.

Weasley looked smitten for a moment, the hard lines of his face smoothing out the tiniest bit into a contortion of ease and delight. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

Granger nodded with a splitting smile and turned her brown gaze towards me as she pointed to the six bags on the floor. “I went out to get you some clothes. You don’t need to pay me back, but I do still want to go shopping with you tomorrow. Harry should be here in a few hours so just get settled in.”

The Gryffindor nudged her head towards the hallway next to us. “Kitchen is stocked with food and the bathrooms have all the necessities that a person needs.”

Damn. The Golden Trio worked fast.

I nodded to Granger, chewing on the insides of my cheeks. “Uhm, if I may ask, why are we so out in the open in Wisixi Podge of all places? Won’t Animadverto find us easily?”

Weasley shook his head, raising his arm to toss it over Granger’s shoulders and tug her into his side, practically smothering her to his large frame. “This is the place they would least expect because it’s so out in the open. They would assume that it would be smart for assassins to hide in tiny, closed spaces so they wouldn’t think twice about looking in larger places. Besides, they don’t really like this area of the wizard world since the people here aren’t so nice to newcomers, so they would probably assume we wouldn’t be here either.”

That makes sense. But since I was practically a newcomer, I’m guessing I wouldn’t be liked much here.

_You’re not liked anywhere._

I’ll just stay inside when I’m by myself and prey that I don’t get eaten or mangled throughout my stay here.

Granger sighed into her husband’s embrace, the sound making my thoughts scatter as I focused my attention on the two Gryffindors in front of me. “I would invite you to come with us to our friend gathering tonight but honestly you look like you’re going to pass out anytime and you need to rest.”

I appreciated Granger using an excuse to not want me to hang out with their Gryffindor friends. But she didn’t need to hide her anxiety over bringing an ex death eater to a gathering where most likely everyone despised me.

Besides, it’s not like I wanted to go out anyway. I really was tired and people being kind to me like Granger and Weasley were doing right now made me feel uncomfortable and on the brink of paranoia.

_They were just acting nice._

I waved them off with a swift wiping gesture of my hand as I turned to look out at the city below. “No need to invite me, I’d like some rest anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow, Granger. Now if you two would get out of here, I bid you farewell.”

I saw from out of the corner of my eyes Granger’s lips tip up into a wry smile while Weasley nudged her frame with his arm wrapped around her. Granger replied with her voice soft and steady. “Don’t leave the room unless Potter is here. He has the key to the penthouse suite and we don’t want you walking out of the wards we put around the place in case of anyone potentially trying to harm you. See you then.”

They left immediately through apparition and left me to stand by the window wall.

Furrowing my brows, I let my head drop back, the hair tie around my messy bun suddenly too much with its embrace circling over my blonde strands and causing my temple to thrum with an incoming headache.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I let out a heavy breath, lungs expanding and decompressing in the cage of my ribs as I reached my left hand up to tug the tie loose around my bun and let the mess of my hair tumble down my neck and brush the tired slouch of my shoulders.

“Fuck, that’s better.” I voiced my own thoughts throughout the quiet of the living room, tone shaking in my breathy rasp.

Today was a long day. I didn’t even want to dwell on the fact that Potter and I would be living in the same space together for the next few months, bringing on a clashing of heat and nerves in the confines of my body.

I was going to be stuck in a suite with my crush.

_A crush that doesn’t think twice about you._

Shaking my head, I brought my head forward to look down at the bags of clothes Granger got me, hearing the soft grumble of my stomach and huffing out in exasperation.

Gathering the bags in my hands, I trekked down the hallway to go to the first room I saw on the right and plopped the clothes over the expanse of the large California King sized bed covered in downy dark grey sheets and blankets. The room took up at the least the space of two regular apartments rooms, it was so large. An open walk in closet opposite from where I stood at the door now just as big as my studio apartment. To my right was a stainless steel bathroom that looked as large at the closet, if not more.

The floor was covered in Italian wood.

I thought about face planting onto my bed but disregarded the idea when my stomach cramped with the need for food fuel.

Tossing my coat over the Vanity mirror desk chair next to the bathroom and throwing my shoes off next to the foot of my bed as well as my socks, I padded across the cool floor with the naked soles of my feet.

I went to reach for my switchblade in my jeans pocket but halted when I realized that Potter fucking took it from me not a while back.

Fucker.

Shaking my head, I walked back out to get to the large white marbled kitchen and rummaged through the large fridge to snack on some cheese and the crackers I found in the cabinets. There was a lot of food but I just wanted a snack so I could get to bed sooner.

I felt like I was a walking zombie at the moment.

After eating and drinking a large amount of water, I had wandered off back into the room I declared my own to look through the shopping bags for some pajamas. The clothes that Granger chose were rather exposing compared to the ones I had at home and different from my regular taste, but I was grateful nonetheless and knew that shopping tomorrow for my own clothes will do me some good.

Deciding to just throw on a black short sleeved rock band T-Shirt with extremely short dark red sleep shorts, I deemed myself ready for bed. Surprisingly, I listened to the band etched out over the front of my shirt and everything fit me perfectly. I’m pretty sure the boxers that I got would fit me fine, though I didn’t wear them since I hated putting on underwear when going to bed.

I didn’t want to know how Granger got my exact sizes for my clothes and how she knew about some of my fashion senses and interests.

She’s weird.

Clicking my tongue, I threw myself over the expanse of my bed across the flat of my stomach, huddling into the downy mattress and sighing out with contentment. I didn’t even get underneath the sheets and blankets since I had fallen asleep too fast to care about doing such a trivial thing.

 

* * *

 

 

The line of my forehead between my brows were creased, the sides of my eyes crinkling to display an agonized pinch as my gaze swept down over the length of my bare flesh, the slopes and dips of my gangly figure a creamy pale that were such a contrast with the brand etched into the side on the bottom of my back, a little above my right arse cheek.

Staring down into the reflection of the wall to wall bathroom mirror in front of me, I let my eyes soak in the circular structure of the mark, a mixture of a dark tar black like substance and the beginning shades of an amethyst hue color mingling together with the caliginous tone. Designs foreign to any regular human eye circled, stretched, overlapped, and curved with one one another in a variety of cluttered lines within the etched sphere on my skin.

Pressing my lips together, I frowned down at the mark.

After all these years, I still don’t know how this imprint had came burrowing into my skin.

The mark appeared at the end of the trial with the Ministry of Magic regarding my imprisonment in Azkaban.

The counsel didn’t say anything about branding my flesh though. I had thought about telling someone about this weird mark upon my body but the thing hadn’t done anything harmful to me or to others so I figured I’d keep this tidbit of information to myself.

Nothing has happened regarding the emblem.

Glancing up my figure, I turned back around on my heel, watching with a sort of trepidation at way the wet curl of my long hair, wet and silver tinged, assorted into weird coils to create something similar to that of a rats nest. The scent of almond and the light fragrance of rain coveted the whole of my body and the steamed bathroom, filtering through the humid air after having taken a slow and leisure shower in the early morning of my waking.

I looked like a drowned cat.

Rubbing the fluffy white towel I found hanging on the rack near the glass covered shower walls over the wet skin of my figure, I let out a sigh of exaltation, breaths heaving in with deliciously lax manner.

The contours of my tousled hair dripped water over the clean marble floor as I pursed my lips at the smell I emitted.

Granger must have known what kind of hair products and moisturizers I used given that I found the same scented bottles in the bags of clothes she brought me.

I’m not going to question how Granger knew.

The Gryffindor was an assassin and surely knew how to get any information on anyone she wanted.

Glancing at the open entrance of my bathroom, my frown curled down further over the curve of my lips, hearing an echo of silence except for the rustle of the towel I pressed and swiped down the slick of my skin.

Before deciding to take a shower, I had wandered around the suite to check if Potter was here and after a good solid ten minutes of calling out his name in curious fixation with no response and no sign of the man, I had given up and went about my own business.

_Perhaps Potter came later in the night yesterday to leave before I woken up._

_He doesn’t want to deal with your pathetic arse._

Blowing out an exaggerated sigh, the opal shades of my eyes flicked away from the door to chew on the bottom of my lip as I reached between the slight spread of my thighs to dry the wet of my cock and line between my arse cheeks, hands fumbling about as my breath hitched at the brush of the towel rubbing against my sensitive prick. 

My body was more hyper aware in the morning and after a good shower.

Sweeping the soft fabric of the towel down the inner skin of my thighs, I let out a shaky breath from the heated friction between my legs, an image of Potter pressing me up against the wall in that dark room with his muscular scorching leg teasing and pressing into the part of my thighs invading the solace of my head.

“You forgot a spot.” The deep timbre of a familiar voice sliced into my hazed thoughts, rumbling and filling with a low deceptive murmur that made my body jump about two feet up into the air as I let out a significantly high pitched, broken squeal in my surprise.

Whipping around on the slippery slopes of my heels, the slick of the skin at the bottom of my feet had caused me to teeter totter on suddenly weakened, shocked limbs as my widened eyes caught sight of Potter leaning against the open door frame.

My vision went every which way in my panic of frantic movement as my mouth emitted a sound of a gasp of perpetual hysteria. I found myself wrangling with my towel in an effort to cover up the whole of my body and keep myself from falling flat on my arse.

Snapping my left hand out in my bout of clumsiness, I gripped onto the ledge of the large sink and steadied myself, breaths whooshing past astonished lungs as my other hand clutched the cool material of my towel and dangled the spread of its fabric over the front of my body.

“Wh-wh-what the hell, Potter! Do you not know the meaning of p-private space!?” I snapped at him in my fit of embarrassment, the skin of my chest, neck and cheeks burning under the jaded ruby hue of Potter’s steady, heavy gaze from his relaxed stature against the doorframe.

Bottom lip quivering in a rush of adrenaline, nerves and heat, I shook from where I stood, taking in Potter’s attire for the day with an inevitable want. The man lazed back with the broad right of his shoulder against the entrance wall, the mess of his Stygian hair falling over his eyes like a shadowing curtain as the enticingly eerie glow of his gaze slipped through the raven black strands to bore into my flesh.

Potter’s black sweats clung to his defined, tanned hips, the powerful muscles of his legs and thighs flexing beneath the workout pants as he had the left foot of his leg crossed beneath his right in an angle to lean against the doorframe with a casual stance. His white short sleeve T-Shirt shown the swell arch of his biceps and the straining tendons of his long arms crossed over his hard chest. 

_Oh fuck me._

_He’s gorgeous._

And I’m naked.

Did Potter see the mark on my back? The Gryffindor didn’t say anything regarding the emblem branded into my skin so perhaps he didn’t catch sight of it fast enough when he spoke out to me and I turned too quickly around to face him.

Potter raised his brows up at me from his perch, the succulent line of his lips giving no sign of emotion away but a careless, bored expression. “Why so jumpy, Malfoy?”

I jutted out my bottom lip in aggravated apprehension, my eyes narrowing up at him as I released my death grip on the bathroom sinks edge to wrap the towel around the whole of my shaking body and the swelling of my cock at the sight of Potter.

_Stop getting horny around him!_

And why did Potter have to be so silent wherever he went? I didn’t even know he was in the suite until just now.

“Why so- how dare you ask such a q-question?! You can’t just barge into someone's bathroom while they’re naked.” I hissed out the words in a softened shocked tone.

Potter let out a hum, low and assessing as his eyes seemed to draw in the expression of my face, watching and observing with an unnerving focus. “Not like there’s much to see, so don’t get all defensive. Besides, I only came here to tell you that Granger is waiting for you.”

My chest shuddered at the sluicing throb spreading out beneath it, my heart thundering achingly against my rib cage as I took in Potter’s words with a stabbing hurt that I couldn’t help but feel.

_Potter doesn’t think you’re much to look at._

_He’s definitely not interested._

Sucking on the bottom flesh of my lip, I jabbed my teeth into the skin as I nibbled and clamped down over the throbbing of the skin to keep myself from making any distressed noise at Potter’s response.

I like him and yet he’s gotten so much meaner than before, putting me down constantly and hurting my feelings with no such care in the world for it.

I remember when he saved me from going to Azkaban though, when he had taken my wand away and brushed the tips of his fingers across my wrists as he breathed his regrets into the hollow flesh of my burning ears about taking something so vital away from me. He was so kind and understanding and gentle with the warmth of his breaths caressing the flesh of my ears. And then he made my like for him grow tenfold when he had leaned back and given me a mischievous grin to chastise me. “Don’t get in anymore trouble, Malfoy.” He had teased. And I, well, I fucking melted at the relaxed yet confident way he held himself when he spoke to me.

It was a small moment that I had cherished when I was so young with no one on my side for the first time. Sure, Potter was still a bastard, but I liked how he talked me like I was a normal student instead of the death eater everyone made me out to be.

I both hated and liked the way Potter made me feel comforted. He made me feel weak and strong at the same time.

And now, I despised the way Potter made me want to climb him like a tree and let him fuck me into the netherworld. His nonchalant attitude made me interested and flustered although he made me ache in a way that no one ever has. His intimidation draws me to him like I was a fucking parasite. I liked him still. I knew that this Potter standing in front of me was the man that he has alway been but never quiet shown to anyone in the wizard world before since he had to put up a front on being the Golden Boy. That could be tiring and I had a feeling that this was who Potter really was. Powerful, cruel, sexy and all consuming.

I loathed my want for him.

Looking up at Potter beneath my lashes, I blew the strands of my drying tousled hair out of my field of view as I glared up at the man, pushing away the hurt and need for him and putting on a bratty snark to mask the way I truly felt. “It’s nice to know I disgust you so much with my mere appearance. T-Thanks for the heads up about Granger, Potter. Can you get the bloody hell out now?”

Shifting from one foot to the next, I sucked in the water of my bottom lip as I turned my head away in an effort to keep Potter from seeing the frustration on my face.

My breath rushed out of my lungs when I heard a chuckle, deep and coated with a wicked husk, escape from Potter’s mouth. The sound elicited an electricity to tingle and buzz over the curve of my spine and into tremor of my limbs.

My eyes snapped back over to watch the way Potter’s body tilted towards my person in a predatory fixation, the hunch of his shoulders prominent as he let his head dip forward and the black smoky tendrils of his hair sweep across the smooth skin of his forehead.

I watched with a pressure against my inner chest, Potter stalk his way forward, one step after another that seemed to thunder in the deafening silence of the steamed bathroom. The sharp angles of Potter's jaw and cheekbones shown with an illuminate glow, as if they was purposely reflecting the fluorescent lighting above our heads to cause my attention to veer towards the harsh lines of Potter's gorgeous, stern face. Taunting me.

“What? Is _the_ Draco Malfoy hurt that I find him revolting to look at? Not everyone likes a pompous, stuck up little brat.” Potter’s voice flooded the insides of my stomach, burning my bones and disintegrating every coherent thought in my mind from the guttural, rough octave that the man spoke out to me.

I stumbled back away from Potter’s looming, approaching steps, my breath picking up in time with the racing of my heart and the thudding filling my hot ears.

Potter thinks that I’m a spoiled brat, that I thought that I was on higher ground than everyone when in reality, my thoughts were far from those ideals.

My stupid prick starting to rise against the towel wrapped around me as I gaped up at the man prowling towards my nervous frame. I let out a indignant huff, shaky and hot as I snapped at Potter for his insults, trying to hide the anxiety and damage to my erratic heart from the assassin’s assault on my person. “Fuck off Potter, you don’t know anything about me. I-If I’m so disgusting then why don’t you leave me the hell alone?”

I was vulnerable, with only a towel to cover up the burning wet of my body, and the fact that Potter saw me naked a few seconds ago making me want to crawl out of my own skin in mortification and nerves, an anxious tremor producing in my jello limbs. My feet slipped across the polished floor, mouth popping open to release a shuddering gasp as I practically scrambled away from Potter’s encroaching figure, dark and harsh.

“I have to babysit you. I think leaving you alone is out of the option. So here’s what’s going to happen.” Potter’s voice dripped with a rumbling malice as he closed in on me.

I found myself clutching my towel with the line of my back and arse smacking against the grey slate walls, the cool of the surface over my towel and the sudden stop of my retreating movements making me squeak out in a flush of crimson red.

Potter leaned forward, crowding into my space and causing my neck to strain back from having to tilt my head up so I could look at the man towering over me, his muscles moving against the fabric of his shirt and taking the very breath out of my open mouth with his sudden close proximity, threatening and overwhelming. “You follow my orders when I give them. Don’t get in my way. Don’t cause any trouble and don’t try to get yourself killed. You’re a tool for this job so don’t screw up. You’re nothing but a relative piece in this assignment and I don’t want you to cause me anymore of a headache than you already have. Do you understand me?” Potter’s voice was a roughened mumble now, dipping into the pit of my gut and scrambling up my insides with his words.

This man was awful.

This man was infuriating and consistently brutal with every speech he made.

He kept tearing me apart with every acidic, gravelly word he drawled out from the distracting curve of his lips, his voice gnawing holes through my chest and leaving me gaping open for him to mock and peer into.

And with the way I was raised as a child, I couldn’t help but be a bitch in exchange for the hurt I was feeling. In the heat of the moment, I was so angered and ashamed and burning up from the Gryffindor that I had raised my left hand on instinct to ball my fingers up into my palm with the intention to slam it against the hard wall of Potter’s chest, letting out a small sound of agitation with a small curl of my lip.

But before my fist could slam into Potter, his fingers had blearily snapped up during my movement and I was stopped from Potter’s grip around the small of my wrists, his long fingers digging into the delicate bones and his hardened grasp causing them to rub against one another, halting my actions.

I cried out at the pain, glaring heatedly up at the man in my rage and embarrassment as I tried tugging my wrist away from Potter’s tight, pain induced grip, the single touch of his hands on me shooting energy down my spine. He didn’t move an inch at my struggle to get out of his hold on me.

“Fuck you, Potter! You have no clue who I am. And you surely have no fucking right to tell me what to do! I’m sorry you’re stuck with such an awful person and I may be a tool for this mission but I am still a person and it would be nice to be treated as such. Y-You’re so fucking _mean_ -” My voice was beginning to crack and I stopped myself from yelling out anymore ramblings.

My bottom lip was trembling as I breathed harshly up at Potter, groaning out in dismay and hurt when Potter wouldn’t fucking let me go and only twitched the curl of his steel like fingers around my wrist to dig into the skin and bone even more. With a single flex of Potter’s hand, I was forced to tumble and smack my front against Potter’s chest.

I gave out a startled yelp at the contact of his furnace of a body pressed up against my cool one, lips dropping open to release a breathy whimper at the feel of the Gryffindor’s hard rock abs rubbing up against the flat of my stomach.

I shook in fear, arousal, and anger from Potter. My hand was caught between my chest and his, rendering any movement from my wrist and fingers. I was shaking like I was my own sort of earthquake, gasping for air as Potter’s scent intoxicated me and made my head throb in a dizzying spell.

“You want me to fuck you? For me to lift you up by the slim of your hips so I could press my cock into your arse and pound you until you bleed for me, cry and become dirtied by my hands? It won’t happen. I have every right to tell you what to do, _Kitten._ I’m supposed to protect you and you have to follow my orders or else you’ll get killed. Your life is on the line here and I’m not going to protect someone who doesn’t want it or constantly is trying getting himself killed. I’ll put you over my knee and spank that perky arse of yours red until you _bruise_ if you so much as think of disobeying me.” Potter’s voice was salacious and sinister, all encompassed in a shroud of darkness that made me shudder against the press of our bodies and my cock jut up against Potter’s hip.

I whined high in my throat, the sound ripping from my mouth as I took my other hand to lay it flat against Potter’s right muscled pec to push him away from me. But my effort was for naught and the man was like a fucking boulder with the way he didn’t even stumble from my shove, my gaze wavering at the amount of rolling heat and hardness coming from the assassin’s skin and chest.

To my utter horror, I felt that tingling ball of warmth drop into the pit of my gut and thrum into my groin. I was getting turned on by Potter’s harsh words and the way the green hue of his eyes pulsed with its mingling stark red color as he bore his gaze into my own. Frowning up at him, I could sense my pulse quickening as my breaths came out faster, cock trapped between our bodies, pulsing with blood and heat.

_You like Potter. You like him so much it fucking hurts._

_You get off on him being aggressive, being harsh._

No one has ever handled me the way Potter does, like I was someone he could throw against the floor and be fucked into as if I was toy of his.

_Something is wrong with you._

Potter and I were always fighting since we were little. Maybe, perhaps, I got off on it. The hate and the cruelty constantly filled with heat made my blood boil and my body crave the burn from Potter’s words and actions.

But the Gryffindor didn’t like me.

My chest constricted at the fact that Potter didn’t think of me in a sexual manner, no sign of any interest in my person, physically. And bloody hell, it was mortifying to hear Potter talk about fucking me like I wanted him to in that rasped mocking tone of his.

I was going to have to behave for the time being if I wanted to live through the next few months. If anything was to happen to me, Potter was supposed to protect me and the only way he could is if I allowed him to and if I did as I was told, which was to be cautious and _not_ get myself in trouble, even if the result constituted barely any words exchanged between us throughout the whole mission.

Potter was right, but he didn’t have to be a jerk about everything.

I needed Potter out of this bathroom before I tried to do anything stupid like beg the man to spank me just like he threatened to do with me or attempt to slap my palm across his gorgeous face. The next words I spoke were rushed and trembling with rage and arousal, voice begrudging and pitching in high and low octaves consistently. “Yes. I Understand. I’ll behave.”

I gritted my teeth together, ashamed at the way my body reacted to the man before me, of how my heart felt like it was seconds away from bursting out of my chest just so it could crawl all over Potter in pathetic desperation for his attention and warmth. I shook, pressed up against the hard line of Potter’s heated body and his smell blanketing the whole of my frame and senses, the embarrassing line of my prick poking at Potter’s hip.

I tried not to rub myself off on him and focused on staying still so Potter wouldn’t notice my inappropriate hard on.

_You’re nothing but an assignment to him._

Potter’s grip on me had been released, the warmth of the Gryffindor’s body evaporating as the man took a step back and watched me heave in one breath with the next at his quick movement, cheeks burning and my limbs seconds away from crumbling beneath my weight.

My gaze flicked away from Potter’s to fixate on anything but the assassin in front of me, angling my body to the side in an effort to cover up the hard outline of my bulge beneath my towel and keeping my head tipped low to let the strands of my messy drying hair shield my burning face from Potter’s view.

“Good boy.” Potter’s voice came out in a rough whisper, a thick honeyed rich tremor that wound its way into the concave of my chest to make it quake, rushing through my pulsing veins and straight down to my treacherous hot prick.

I snapped my gaze back up to Potter, breath hitching at the frighteningly sensuous tone that dripped from the Gryffindor’s mouth. It sounded like a wicked praise that had my heart rate picking up double time and my cock rising to aching proportions.

_Good boy._

Oh holy shit.

That phrase shouldn't be making my heart stutter in my chest and my cock throb even more.

But when I went to stare incredulously at Potter, he was no longer in the bathroom, disappearing from my line of sight without making any sound.

There was no way to stop the buckle of my knees and my bare arse from falling to the floor in a heap of warmed, frail limbs, my breathing becoming ragged.

My nerves were completely frayed by such simple words, the absence of Potter’s being leaving me in a heap of inflamed flesh.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It took me a while to find an outfit to wear, having too many clothes to choose from in the bags that Granger brought to me yesterday. In the end, after rifling through a bundle of them, I had slipped on some dark blue fitted jeans that suctioned to the skin of my legs and the wide of my hips and a simple long sleeved black top that was loose fitted and had a little bit of a low neckline. I didn’t have any shoes except for the ones I came here with so I had to shove on my combat boots and thought that I looked good enough.

I opted to wear a dark gray trench coat for the cool weather I knew that awaited for me outside since the season was in the middle of winter.

Nibbling on the insides of my cheeks, I stepped out of my room to walk through the wide hallway and into the living area. My eyes caught sight of Granger with her arms crossed over her ample chest talking to Potter in hushed tones beneath her breath, the glossy curve of her lips barely moving with her quick stream of words.

Potter's head knelt the slightest bit, glowing emerald eyes peering down at one of his best friends as he silently took in Granger’s quiet words. His gaze was distant, a dark hue of blood red that pulsated with a feverish warmth that left me dumb struck, the lean muscled frame of his body emitting a confidence that was both overpowering and alluring.

Granger snapped her gaze my way at the same time Potter slowly dragged his towards my figure standing awkwardly in the hallway entrance. My cheeks grew immediately red from remembering our encounter just a few minutes ago, causing my heart to pick up its rate and my nervous gaze to slide over to Granger whose eyebrows were raised in a placating, cool gesture.

“I’m glad to to see that the clothes I got you fit so well. Although those jeans are practically cupping your cute arse cheeks rather _too_ good. Better watch out for any creatures who like pretty little blondes.” Granger spoke her comment through a pristine drawl of her words.

I tipped my head up and ignored Potter’s rendering presence in front of Granger as I could feel his colorful gaze dig its way into my skin. Narrowing my eyes at the redhead, I clicked my tongue in a show of irritation although I was rather ashamed at Granger’s statement on my attire. I didn’t know the jeans were _that_ bad. “It’s rather vexing to know that you think I’d let anyone near me to get even a full glimpse of my arse, Granger. And please refrain from saying such crude words, it’s unsightly.”

Potter shifted on his feet to glance out of the large windows of the suite, ignoring my person like he often did whenever I was in the same space as him, the lines of his sharp cheekbones glinting against the sunlight streaming in through the glass.  

_Motherfucker._

“You’re such a prude, Malfoy. But it's cute. Anyway, Potter here is going to come with us shopping because two people protecting you is going to be better than one in case anything happens although I assure you I can handle things on my own.” Granger responded to my quick retort.

Openly glaring at the girl, I let out a small puff of air. “Don’t ever call me ‘cute’. And I’m not being a prude, it’s called having the decency to keep any inappropriate language or thoughts from being heard by others, similar to the phrase ‘having manners’.” I refused to acknowledge that Potter was going to be with Granger and when we shop, my pulse seemed to like the idea of having the Golden Boy around with the way my blood rushed and heated my skin up at that thought.

_Behave, Malfoy._

I have to show Potter that I wouldn’t be such a burden on him. I have to make the Gryffindor know that I can be good and show him up.

_Forget about your stupid crush on the assassin. It’s hopeless._

Granger let out a light laugh, soft milky brown eyes lighting up with mirth. The girl was beautiful when she smiled that glowing joy across her fairy like features. Weasley was a lucky man. “You’re even cuter when you get all prim and prissy. Nice to know you still have that attitude. Come on, let’s apparte into Wisixi Podge’s shopping center.”

Potter tilted his head sideways, silent in the chatter of mine and Granger’s exchange of words as he stared me down from his spot. The man didn’t even blink and I found myself touching the solid cobbled streets of _Merlion_ , the shopping district of Wisixi Podge.

I let the initial queasiness settle down, the dull throb in the center of my stomach and the sides of my thumping head a constant sensation when apparating.

Fucking Potter and his wandless magic.

He could have warned me!

Twisting on my heel, I had the intention to yell at Potter for his terrible warning, but stopped in my determination to do so when I turned and found myself staring at the large chest of a rather pale and heavily muscled man.

“Sorry, sir.” I breathed, keeping completely still as I went to look up and stare into black, gleaming eyes. The man was obscenely white, like a powdery substance making up the whole of his flesh that gave out a flow of frigid air.

The man was freezing.

And he looked down at me with a glint of curiosity and half crazed interest.

I held still as I tried to keep myself from flinching back at the cold breeze emitting from the huge man’s frame.

“That’s quite alright, little one. I wouldn’t mind it if you got even closer, just so I can grab a hold of that creamy slender neck of yours and drain you of that Malfoy bloo-” A hand came up out of nowhere, catching me off guard as I watched fingers grasp the side of the (now known) vampire’s face with a bruising force, blunt nails scraping into the creature’s freezing cheek and making the man hiss out before being shoved carelessly aside like a flea.

The vampire stumbled from the harsh push and went to touch the black trail of his blood that seeped from the splitting of his flesh on the side of his face where he was grabbed at moments ago, groaning out in pain.

Potter towered over me now, breathing levelled with an eerie calmness as he stepped up and gave away a blank stare towards the angry vampire, lips pressed into a thin line of cruel tranquility that had me shivering on the spot, his voice monotonous and cold as the vampire’s body was. “Get lost.”

The vampire snarled at Potter before glancing back towards me with an angry curl of his lips, the sharp, stained yellow of his teeth enticing my throat to convulse in gross wariness.

My instinct got the best of me and I sneered right back at the cold man, the stupid need to talk back at the vampire for saying those things overriding any logical thought of mine. “Better clean your teeth first before propositioning someone to be your blood bag. No ones want an unhygienic vampire tool that will give them some disease.” My words came out clipped and toneless.

I saw Granger peering up over Potter’s shoulder to fix her amused gaze towards me. Of course the redhead was delighted by all of this.

The vampire’s black eyes turned into hateful slits as he snapped his jaw my way and made me visibly cringe at the clink of his teeth smashing together in the space surrounding the front of my face. “Oh you’d be fun to take down. You may be a Malfoy but you look like something that all my vampire friends would take turns fucking. We’ll let you be the slut you were born to be-”

I snapped at him, cutting of his enraging words as I took a step forward so I could encroach on the creatures space as he took a surprising step back from my sudden burst of anger. “I’m no one’s fuck toy, asshole. Get anywhere near me and I’ll cut off your lifeless dick and make you choke on it, you bloody wanker.” My voice was dipped in a venomous hiss.

I may be an ex death eater but whenever someone threatened me, I didn’t take their shit. I’ve had to deal with everyone hating me all my life and there was no way that I was going to stand here and take this vampire’s crap. There’s a reason why no one bothers with me, and that’s either because they think I’m nothing but trash that shouldn’t be acknowledged or because an angry Malfoy that makes them not even want to get close to me makes them stay away. My bitchy attitude has kept me safe so far and right now, I needed this stupid vampire to back off.

_It’s different with Potter. He saved you from going down an awful road with Azkaban. It feels like you have no right to argue with someone you practically owe your life too._

Potter makes me want to be good. I want him to see that I’m not just an ex death eater or the bullying child that he once knew.

Right now though, I was showing how much of a Malfoy I was and that surely wouldn’t get me on Potter’s good side.

But I had to defend myself some way.

The vampire blinked at me, stunted for a moment before I saw the corners of his eyes pinch aggressively into a gnarled fixture that had made my blood run cold. I could feel some people around us stare with fascinated curiosity.

I heard Granger let out a cackle of enjoyment when I leaned back at the sight of the creature coming at me full force in an blurry instant, closing my eyes for a perpetual bite or a beat down. But after a few minutes, there was no feeling of scratching or the ripping of my flesh.

Instead, I heard a significant squawk of agony and wrenched my eyes open to stare down at a writhing, fallen vampire sprawled out over the freezing floor with his body twitching in a series of shivers. The curve of his jaw was dangling from its hinges, swinging back and forth with each violent shake of his paralyzed shape, grunting and giving out choked screams that had the entirety of the town looking on with gaping mouths of horror and confused awe.

_Jesus fuck._

My gaze lifted up to watch Potter staring down at the trembling vampire, his eyes uninhibited with the shard of crimson red in those green eyes that darkened into a burgundy hue that let his face turn into a stony indifference. I could make out the defined line of his jaw still and tighten from the muscles tensing in his face as he looked carelessly down at the creature lying helpless on the floor beneath the onslaught of Potter’s sinister magic, heavy in the atmosphere and congesting in my throat to the point that my chest constricted with the way my lungs seemed to suffocate under the menacing magic.

Potter was going to kill this man.

Mouth parting, I flicked the tip of my tongue across my bottom lip, anxious and unnerved at the way Potter seemed to take no countenance at the fact that the vampire he was putting under his magic was going to be dead in a second with the way the creature was gargling on the bubbling spit gathering in his broken jaw.

_Oh gods._

My body warmed with an entanglement of alarming volatile warmth that spread out over the trembling of my thighs and fear induced hysteria at the way Potter’s body had a relaxed vehemence with his actions.

No one should die on my behalf.

And I shouldn’t be so entranced with the fact that Potter was taking down a creature without even lifting a finger.

“Potter. Stop, come on, just leave the guy alone.” All my anger dissipated with the knowledge that I could get someone killed any second now. My voice came out in a breathy whisper, a quivering hitch in my tone that shown the anxiety crowding within the tremulous hot and cold emotions in my body.

The vampire’s eyes were now rolling to the back of his head, mumbling incoherently around the rabid foul of his sulfur tinged mouth as Potter penetrated his darkened gaze into the man’s decaying body without a worried furrow in his brows.

It was like Potter had drawn into himself, completely void of any emotion. The man seemed to have become some sort of machine in front of me, without a soul or any conscience thought, just an emptiness that reminded me of a black hole that sucked in every essence around him and gave nothing back.

It was terrifying.

I looked towards Granger who looked on towards the vampire with a flex of her jaw, no remorse in those brown of eyes of hers.

_What happened to the Golden Trio? They were never this … dangerously heartless._

I didn’t even bother to protest with Granger, but instead, blurted out the only thing that could get the attention of the Gryffindor causing the strain on the vampire trembling on the ground like a fish out of water.

My voice shook with my panicked, rasp ridden words. “ _Harry._ P-please stop.”

I dragged the top edges of my teeth over the wobbling flesh of my bottom lip, catching the skin and digging my teeth into the curve of my lip to drag it into my mouth in a nervous habit of mine.

I knew I couldn’t force Potter to stop whatever he was doing to the vampire physically, and I had no magic to prevent the Chosen One from killing the creature.

My heart pounded against my rib cage when the sound of Potter’s first name passing my lips caused his eyes to dart towards my stupefied body, a flash of pulsating red and jade darkening the varying shades of his eyes as the shadows pupils of his gaze seemed to shake within his pupils like they were spasming. My breath halted in my throat when I noticed the fast movements of his eyes, my mind making up the scenario that Potter had looked too quickly down at the nibbling of my teeth on my lips before looking back up. Maybe I conjured Potter’s actions up, the movement too fast for my human eyes to catch, but I held my frame as stiff as a board, my eyes wide in the face of Potter’s emotionless torment.

My stupid prick started rising up beneath Potter’s dark gaze and I wanted to smash a baseball bat into my skull from getting hot and bothered right now.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you, _Kitten_.” Potter’s voice had dropped down into a rumbling cadence, grating on the ends of my nerves with a flickering burn that made my cheeks warm and my fingers shudder at the vindictive drone of the Gryffindor’s voice.

I heard the deafening _crack!_ of the vampire’s right knee cap shattering within his twitching leg, a screech of hurt piercing the fearful silence surrounding us and making me jerk back at the ear-splitting sound, my heart crashing into my chest as I glanced down to the vampire with large stricken eyes to watch the creature writhe in pain.

Potter needed to stop this!

With the air struggling to get passed my parted lips, I looked back over to Potter who had let his head tip the slightest bit to the side, the black gleam of his tousled hair falling over his glowing eyes that peered into the very core of my soul, tearing me apart and flaying my skin alive for his gaze only.

My body both lit up and curled in on itself at the mere malignancy in Potter’s stare.

“Stop it! You’re hurting him. Enough. Just let him go.” I was worrying over my state of arousal at seeing Potter displaying the quiet darkness of his magic as well as the man practically dry heaving in his own spit, broken jaw and cracked knee.

My mind was erupting in shock waves.

The crowd surrounding us was doing nothing but staring on in a mixture of horror, peculiar interest, and muted hate.

Potter held me in his gaze and I couldn’t _move._ “That’s not what you said.” The assassin's voice curled around my skin and teasingly licked a hot path over every crevice of my limbs, distilled in his mumble.

My teeth released the plump of my lip, the veins beneath my skin pumping viciously as my ears rang with a heady thrum that made my body tingle in the wake of Potter’s eyes.

Just by the ceaseless vacant gaze that the assassin procured upon me made my groin heat up with a terror that enticed a long breath to exhale out of my moist mouth. I knew what Potter wanted me to say. I never said his name out loud, just his surname, and it seemed like he was taunting me for it, as if he knew that my admittance to his first name shown how much power he had over me, how much power I gave over to him by breathing out the mere syllables of his first name.

Potter wanted to mock me for a reason I couldn’t pinpoint.

_Potter wants to punish you for causing trouble the minute you stepped out of the suite. Wants to make you feel embarrassed and scared._

_Discipline you._

Electricity zinged down my thighs at that thought, hot and overwhelming.

The vampire was going to die because I misbehaved and decided to goad the damn creature on like an idiotic brat. I brought attention to us and now Potter was going to make me say his name again for the sole purpose of teaching me a lesson for causing trouble so quickly.

The Gryffindor wanted to make me feel ashamed in front of the crowd looking on at us, to make me call out his name and show that the powerful wizard had made Draco Malfoy adhere to his words. 

I wouldn’t let my pride get in the way of getting someone killed on my behalf though.

_This is wrong._

_Killing someone to teach me a lesson is fucked up._

Why was I hard though?

_You like the cruelty Potter emits._

_You’re sick._

I tilted my head back, gritting my teeth together in frustration from hearing the vampire’s screaming and doing what Harry was silently demanding me to do.

“H-Harry, _please._ Stop. I won’t engage in any fights anymore.” I whispered the words, barely audible to my own ears as my mouth moved the smallest amount with forming the letters.

Harry let his gaze shudder as he gazed down at me, powerful and deadly. “Louder.” His words resonated a low murmur to my own ears with how quiet his command was.

I trembled underneath Harry’s gaze, having no amount of strength to look away for the sheer fear I felt at the consequences I would get if I did. The vampire was screaming louder now, causing my eardrums to quake at the high pitch splitting the still air.

Granger didn’t do anything but watch the creature flop about like he was being electrocuted, her gaze dead.

I bit down _hard_ on my lip, my prick rising higher beneath my pants and my heart hammering away against my chest with a fast fervor.

_Do as Harry says._

_Be a good boy._

_Take your punishment._

_Embarrass yourself._

I took a wary step back, the intensity of Harry’s stare causing me to feel like I was being shredded apart. “ _Harry,_ please!” My voice cracked, the stoicism I always carried around with me crumbling beneath Harry’s harsh demand that both excited and scared the holy hell out of me. I wanted to turn away now, hating that I had yelled out Harry’s name like I was his little pet to play with.

I hate him.

_IhatehimIhatehimIhatehim!_

Harry makes me feel weak and exposed.

I should have never gotten a crush on this awful man.

_You still like him._

_You hate him._

Fuck!

The people watched on with soft snickers surrounding us, enjoying the ex death eater doing as he’s told like a docile little thing.

Harry’s eyes went heavy lidded then, gaze drawing down into a lazed salaciousness as the corners of his cupid bow shaped lips tipped up at the sides to reveal a ravenous, sinful grin that made my thighs clench together to keep my arousal at bay and the astonishment spreading out over the gaping part of my mouth.

“No.” Harry’s voice echoed into my ears with a mischievous low taunt.

I yelped when I heard the vampire yell out in a pig squealing pitch that had my knees shaking as I brought my large gaze back down onto the creature and watched in dawning dismay as the vampire’s clothes ripped at his torso to show the tearing of his gut, gushing out a string of intestines that had pushed at his skin like they were alive, wriggling about and puncturing through the flesh to rip away the man’s stomach in a squelching mutilation.

The vampire’s body was was going against him. His innards were moving on their own, slipping out with a ferocious push that caused the man to spit up blood and cry a pool of red that ran down his cheeks and splattered against the cold floor.

_Fucking hell._

“Nonononono! Harry, you’re not supposed to kill him!” I yelled out at the Gryffindor, shaking as I looked at him with my features pinched in a grimacing affronted hurt.

My cock wasn’t going down though.

_You’re disgusting._

The vampire went silent. Dead. His intestines stopping their wriggling as they laid spread out over the ripped skin of his gut.

The stench of rotting flesh and metallic blood filled my senses, but having to have smelled this scent throughout the war had made me immune to the raunchy smell and the sight of the brutal death was something I’ve seen countless times when I was younger. It still didn’t prevent me from wanting to hide away from the world.

“Don’t put yourself in danger, brat. I told you that before, being mouthy to a man eating creature can get you killed.”  Harry responded to my panicked words, voice grumbling with a hint of a sinister cadence.

_Learn your lesson, Draco._

Ashamed and shaking with raw nerves and heat, I turned away from the dead vampire and Potter, staring at ground as I started to walk away from the psychotic assassins. I heard Granger murmur to Potter as I walked on weakened limbs towards the nearest store, trying to push my arousal away and focus on the fucked up situation I just got myself into. “I’ll get rid of the body. We made a scene so we need to find another place for you guys to hide.”

Oh gods.

I started to pick up my pace, my legs now pumping with blood as I decided to lift my calves faster and started to jog down the street with my heart pounding loudly in my ears and my head dissipating into a pit of mindfuckery.

I felt like a punished child.

I felt hot.

I felt scared.

_You’re running away from yourself. Running away from the inevitable._

Just as I was about to bring my legs up into a quicker rhythm to break out into a sprint, I felt a hot hand grip my hips in a biting clutch that seemed to embed themselves into my hip bones as I was roughly spun around with my breath wheezing past the riotous pump of my lungs.

My vision blurred for a moment as I felt a heated arm press up beneath the curve of my arsecheeks as I was lifted unceremoniously up against the hard chest, the air stalling in my lungs as I felt every hard dip press up against the soft flat of my chest and tummy. The familiar scent of Harry invading my body. 

My eyelashes fluttered about in disorientation.

When my peripheral view started to clear up from the hazy quick handle of my body, I tilted my head down to collide gazes with Harry’s.

I made an abrupt squeak when the Gryffindor raised a slow dark eyebrow up at me, his lips brought back into that line of nullified expressions as he easily shoved the firm of his forearm snugly beneath my arse and bounced me up against his muscled torso and back down over the flesh of his arm. The bulging of his bicep curved around my right side as he held me to him, the hard perk of my cock poking into the middle of his abs.

I went into a hysteria at the way I was getting turned on by this ruthless man’s handling of me.

“You f-fucking brute! Put me down! Embarrassing me and killing someone so easily, what is wrong w-with you! I-” My mouth dropped open when Potter had tugged me closer to his chest, my sentence getting cut off as the gesture made my prick drag up his defined stomach an inch or so, the friction maddeningly burning and the pressure enticing my frame to break out into goosebumps.

Snapping my hands up, I curved my fingers over the wide width of Harry’s shoulders, scraping my nails into the fabric of his shirt and catching his tanned skin beneath as I wiggled in his trap, clawing my fingers into his flesh as I pushed and pulled and flailed my legs about in a panic.

My legs dangled a few feet above the ground from Harry’s hold on me, his arm practically a sitting chair for my arse.

It was ridiculous how Harry held me up without any strain.

“Hold still.” By the thunderous rasp of Harry’s voice shoving its way inside and around me in an alarming inflection, all of the tensed fixture in my limbs had become soft, the rough sound causing my frame to fall into Harry’s arms even more as I breathed out a shocked gasp of dismay and mortification.

Harry made a minute shift, my thighs having spread out on each side of Harry’s waist and brushing up over his clothed torso. The warm sensation made my back arch up into the Gryffindor unintentionally as the infuriating man went to bounce me up and down once more over his arm, a quick intake of air loud between the two of us as it escaped my mouth.

“You’re out of y-your mind. Oh gods, what the bloody hell did I get myself into? Put me down, Harry.” It seems that once I’ve spoken Harry’s name out loud, I stuck with it.

The clear command in Harry’s voice made me go limp in his hold and I couldn’t find it in myself to struggle because I knew that the bastard was stronger than me by a long shot and I wouldn’t get out of his grasp.  

“You run away from me like that again and I’ll show you physical discipline. This is a warning, don’t put yourself in danger like you did just now with that vampire. Next time you’ll be doing a lot more than watching someone die and screaming my name, _Kitten._ ” Harry drawled out his low tone of a response, the muscles in his back shifting as the heat of his body soaked into my own, the strands my hair falling away from my low ponytail and curving around the frame of my cheekbones to caress the skin of Harry’s forehead as I breathed heavily down at him.

“You’re such a prick. I hate you!” I shoved weakly at his shoulder, only to cry out sharply when Harry took his other hand to grab my left arm and yank it down towards him, the action too fast for me to comprehend. My face was a millimeter away from Harry’s own, his hot breath fanning the shocking part of my lips as I was forced to stare down at him from my perch on his arm.

I was both scared and turned on. I had no idea how to handle the combined emotions that left me quaking in Harry’s arms.

“And yet you’re hard for me.” Harry murmured his words lowly over the flesh of my mouth, his statement making me tremble and press my lips together at the burning sensation crawling up my cheeks.

I didn’t even get the chance to say anything. The Gryffindor decided to apparate both of us out of the shopping district immediately after the words he so carelessly drawled out.

_Fucking fantastic._

I'm going to lose my mind by the end of this day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys! I made a tumblr! This is my tumblr page: https://reimcai.tumblr.com/  
> Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Due to unfortunate family issue circumstances recently, I will be post poning the next chapter update until sometime before the upcoming Wednesday. I'm so sorry, but family comes first and I have to deal with some problems. I won't be long. Thank you for understanding. Look out for the update!


	4. Deliquesce: A Conception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give you a chapter! Hope you guys enjoy. Next update will be next weekend or earlier depending on how the chapter goes for me. Ohhh, *rubs hands together* this is going to be good, and I'm going to enjoy making you guys curious as to what happens next, mwaha.
> 
> Please leave any comments if you want! I'm forever grateful for the support of this story. It makes me happy knowing I can give joy to my readers. Go on and read!

 

Blinking back the rapid colors varying across my field of vision, my eyes wandered from every which way of direction. The fluttering of my pale eyelashes in quick succession against the flush of my cheeks matched with the fast pace of my heart ramming itself repeatedly against the inner cave of my chest made my eyes start to clear up.

The odd sensation that roiled within the pit of my stomach whenever I apparated started to ease away as I shook my head the slightest bit, clearing my peripheral view by every passing second as I felt Harry’s hot arm press flush beneath the plush of my bum with each minute movement he made as we touched ground from the teleportation.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I felt my body jostle about upon Harry’s firm forearm, the curve of my arse squished against the heated skin of Harry’s.

Narrowing my now crystal clear eyes, I snapped my head down to stare at the top of Harry’s head, the tousled strands of his pitch black hair gleaming beneath the light fluorescent brightness beaming down on both of us.

I was in a slight daze from such a quick apparition that my head was still trying to wrap itself around what was happening around me.

Looking around at the area I was in, I gaped at the long hallway we were going down. The expanse of the hallway was wide and stretched high above our heads, seeming to go on for miles as darkness encased the endless ceiling that I couldn’t see from the shadowed sheen it provoked. There was nothing my eyes could catch except for the magically hovering light bulbs a few feet over mine and Harry’s head to give some sort of visibility across the earth covered path we walked on.

Black walls surrounded us.

_Where the hell were we?_

That’s when I felt the flush of my clothed covered chest press languidly against the side of Harry’s lean and long muscled side, my body being cradled like I was some sort of three year old child against the assassin with such an ease that I had turned beet red at the position I found myself in.

With the spread of my legs around Harry’s lower abdomen, my thighs clenched on instinct in an attempt to cover up the perk of my cock pressing insistently against the side of Harry’s hip. I couldn’t close my legs together though, given the mere fact that Harry’s body was literally situated between the open V of my thighs.

I wanted to cry.

This was embarrassing.

And I shouldn’t be calm right now.

With a huff of indignation, I reached my now free hands up to push against Harry’s shoulders, brows furrowing in angered heat as arousal settled low in my stomach and taunted me with the fear I felt for this man holding me so carelessly.

“Harry, put me down! I’m not a fucking child, dammit. I do have two legs of my own.” I hissed at the Gryffindor through the tremor of my voice, remembering that just moments ago, the man before me had killed someone with no such remorse or hesitation, purely in cold blood.

Cruel, heartless and _dark._

It made matters worse that I got turned on by the whole thing because of how powerful and intimidating Harry had become, more so than I had seen of him yet. I was both sickened at my reaction and flabbergasted.

And I need to be out of Harry’s arms before I melted completely.

“It seems to me that you don’t know how to even use them given how easily I caught you when you were practically running away.” Harry responded with a low, bored drawl, husked and without any emotion as he looked straight ahead, green red eyes focused forward and hard at the edges.

I let out a frustrated moan, body warming even further when the brush of my cock rubbed across the hard planes of Harry’s abs, my breath punching out of my throat as I whipped my head away from Harry’s line of sight so I could frantically push away from Harry’s body with a flailing of my hands against his shoulders.

“Let me go. Fucking hell, Harry! Why did you go off and kill that vampire? There was no reason for such an act-” My straining voice was halted by Harry’s words.

“You know why, _brat._ Next time you think of putting yourself in harms way, know that more deaths stack up because of your carelessness to maintain a behaved nature.” The Gryffindor’s voice dripped with his monotonous statements, muscles shifting beneath the onslaught of his shirt as he suddenly bounced me up off of his arm so fast and viciously that the movement had caused a significant squeak to leave my lips as my bum collided back on top of the curl of Harry’s forearm.

The force of my buttocks smacking against Harry’s arm made the entirety of my frame break out in quakes, blood pumping hot and fast in my prick and a prickling pain stinging across the skin of my arsecheeks, hot and searing and _painful._

I snapped my head back down to openly seethe at the assassin, anger boiling beneath my skin with an irritating itch to claw its way out and flood over Harry. I was panicking at the way my cock made a friction between Harry’s body and my own, plumping up even more by every step Harry took as his side pressed harder against my prick.

“You c-c-can’t just _use_ people to punish me! This is so fucked up, Harry. I demand for you to put me down!” I rose my right hand to slap it across Harry’s left shoulder, chest heaving up and down as I went into a sort of hysteria at the abrupt emotions smothering my conscience and body, scared of the man holding me yet oh so intrigued and heated by him.

I was going to have a panic attack any moment now.

Everything that just happened was starting to fill my brain with dread, confusion, anger and inevitable warmth that sprawled over my groin mockingly.

I was panting, glaring down at Harry with the opal, cobalt hue of my eyes as my neck and cheeks were stained a ruby red.

“Be a good boy then and don’t get people killed for your actions.” Harry quipped with the low murmur of his voice, dropping into a rumbling tremor that made my back go rigid, trepidation a wash of cautiousness down my spine at the tone Harry used, as if he was giving me a warning to not talk back to him.

But the Gryffindor was putting others deaths on me and that made me furious and scared shitless.

_Why is Harry so mean to you?_

Biting down on the wobbling of my bottom lip, I couldn’t stop the way I pushed once again at Harry’s shoulder, wanting to get away from this man as quick and far as possible. He was making me experience feelings that I have never felt before all at once, and I was going mad with it.

_You also want to keep pushing Harry’s buttons, get a rise out of the harsh man._

Harry was someone that had completely changed since I’ve last saw him. Or perhaps, he’s just grown more into his real self.

When I made that one push against Harry’s shoulder, I said something that I knew I shouldn’t have, but the assassin was making me go out of my mind and my stupid crush on him made me feel like such a pathetic git that the only response to my emotions that I could come up with was being a complete prissy bitch.

“Y-You’re the one who killed that man, not _me._ What I find bloody wrong is how you think that killing someone to teach me a lesson will actually make me do as I’m told. You were only trying to scare me into submission and g-guess what, Harry? That will never happen. So fuck you and your egoistic, arrogant, mentally deranged self-” I gave out a startled scream when I felt the bumps of my spine slam against the hallway wall, a searing heat encasing the whole of my body in that familiar dark and heavily foreboding energized pressure. I arched up at the hurt spreading down my back and tailbone, mouth popping out to let out a wet gasp at the sadistic magic coveting me and pinning me against the hard surface of the hallway wall.

My eyes widened, dizzy for good two minutes as I tried to gain back any semblance of my mind as I rapidly blinked from where I was forcefully being held.

I breathed roughly, the ponytail I created out of my hair coming loose from the band as the the mess of my pale locks came unhinged and trailed down my neck to the hefting of my shoulders, tickling my red cheeks as some strands framed my cheeks and obscured my view the tiniest amount.

Looking down at myself, I found my body magically held up three feet from the dirt covered floor, my arms brought up along with my wrists crossed over one another above my head, an invisible heated force making my limbs unable to move.

I was trapped.

Whipping my eyes up ahead of me, I saw Harry lean against the wall opposite from where I was suspended. Harry had his hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans, the long line of his muscled and lean frame tipped backwards just so only his shoulder blades touched the wall behind him. The sharp V of his hips peaked out from the low slung of his jeans, a sliver of the tan, smooth skin of Harry’s hard abdomen showing from the way his black black shirt rode up his stomach. The cords of his muscles were tensed and defined beneath the low lighting of the dark hallway, the handsome lines of his cheekbones and strong jaw emitting a cruelty from the way he let his head tip forward and lilt to the side in an agonizingly slow manner.

The glow of his sea green, sangria cherry kissed shade of his eyes seemed to burn through the stygian of the hallway, reminding me of a demon peering at their target from the solace of their hell. An eerie calmness rolled off of Harry in radiating waves.

My breath caught in my throat at the image he produced.

The man was dangerous, a killer. And seduction dripped from the mussed locks of his dark hair that flicked at the bronze skin of his forehead and high cheekbones.

A suffocating silence echoed between us.

 _You're scared_.

And with the way my groin buzzed with renewed warmth, it seemed, to my utter terror, that I was turned on.

“Tell me what you did wrong from the past few hours.” Harry’s tone was neutral, a dead, flat sound that made my toes curl in on themselves in my boots and my fingers above my head to curve into the bottom of my sweaty palms, breath stuttering out of my lips.

_You almost made a verbal fight with a vampire turn into a physical one._

_You almost got yourself killed._

_You insulted Harry._

_You’re not being a good boy._

I pressed my lips together, letting my teeth chew on the insides of my cheeks as I twitched against Harry’s magical hold on me.

I was mortified at my behavior. I was supposed to show Harry that I wouldn’t be a burden to him and yet I’ve caused him to kill someone on behalf of my own safety and stupidity for riling up a vampire when I clearly shouldn’t have. Someone is dead because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

Fuck, Harry and I just killed someone.

_You’ll never get Harry to like you now._

_He thinks you’re an annoying pest._

I shook from where I was pressed up against the wall, teeth grinding together now as I tried to gather up enough courage to voice my wrong doings. I knew I wasn’t a saint, I’ve killed many people before for the sole purpose of trying to get my parents to love me. I’m not a good person and I was hypocritical for calling out how Harry wasn’t a good person either.

But Harry shouldn’t have killed that vampire.

_You know that if Harry didn’t kill that vampire, you would have been torn to shreds immediately._

Everything was so fucked.

“I … I didn’t do as you told me to. I got in a fight with a vampire who would have k-k-killed me if you didn’t step in. I-I tried running away from you and insulted you. I shouldn’t be t-talking because I’ve killed people too, in the past.” My voice came out weak and quiet, breaths coming out rapid now as I avoided Harry’s burning gaze and tried to force my boner down.

I never was disciplined this way when I was younger. Father and mother just ignored me when I threw tantrums and I had to learn how to get out my anger in a way that made me a bitch without getting in too much trouble because of being a son to Lucius Malfoy. I didn’t dare go against my father, but I did become sassy around him at times and didn’t get in trouble for it.

Harry was punishing me.

And despite my humiliation, I soaked in it.

Because I did do some wrong shit today and I needed to confess to them, although I hated how my anger got the best of me at times.

I despised Harry for looking so put together every time when right now, I was shivering and hard and in fear of the man before me.

_No one has ever paid this much attention to you before._

_You like that Harry is finally putting his focus on you despite it being a discipline._

Harry let out a deep, thunderous contemplative hum that sunk itself deep into the hollow of my bones.

I tried pressing my legs together to keep my erection from showing, but the magic seemed to tighten its hold on my limbs and render me completely too immobile to make so much as a flinch.

“I’m doing my job here, Malfoy. I’m showing you how to not get yourself killed so easily. If Granger and I weren’t there with you, you would have been dead and all those people being used as lifeless sex toys will never get the justice they deserve because then we’d have to find another way to stop Animadverto and waste more time doing so.” Harry’s words were low in the quiet of the hallway and the pitch of my haphazard breathing.

_You’re just a job to Harry._

I at least would get to help others from having to be caught by such a sick group of wizards.

Peering up from beneath my lashes, I murmured out my next words. “I get it. Just a tool for the job. I-I’ll behave from now on, just … don’t kill anyone on my behalf anymore, p-please?”

My arousal was slowly going down, the realization about this being such an important aspect of a mission causing me to deter away from the heat that I felt to let me take into serious countenance of the things happening around me. I couldn’t get hot and bothered by Harry even though if I so much as looked at the Gryffindor, my cock would perk right back up in interest. I had to be a professional, like the assassin in front of me. This was all just so new and being around Harry was making the usual composure of mine and my emotions, go haywire.

At the moment, I just wanted to be alone so I could wallow in my own sorrows for the rest of the day and finally get with the idea that Harry will never want me.

_You’re so stupid._

“That’s up to you. I won’t be killing anyone to teach you a lesson if you don’t give me a reason to.” Harry’s voice came out in a dark response, tone growing huskier with each word he spoke and causing my breath to stall in my throat.

Lifting me eyes up to meet Harry’s emerald, blood red gaze, I gave Harry a meek nod, my hair falling everywhere. Harry watched me from where I was suspended against the wall by his magic, the laze of his body emitting soft and steady breaths as I grew unnerved beneath his unflinching shadowed stare.

_Don’tgetharddon’tgetharddon’tgethard._

Words were jumbling out of my mouth before I could comprehend what I was saying. “Uhm … I-I understand. Can you put me down now?” My voice came out with a shaking hitch, my body having no space or power to move from the harsh magic surrounding me.

Harry didn’t give a response to my question, his face remaining impassive. He was still, reminding me of a predator with the way his hair fell over his gleaming, enticing eyes as the flex of his jaw tightened and loosened every so often.

The assassin watched me.

And I felt the heat soar back up into burning heights as it flooded my system and made my groin tingle in the warmth spreading over it and down my suddenly trembling thighs. My prick was rising with the filter of blood gathering there, my eyes getting large as I breathed through my nose to try and keep myself calm beneath the dark gaze of the Gryffindor’s.

_Harry needs to stop staring at you like that._

_His gaze makes you_ squirm.

Licking my bottom lip, I brought my head down so I wouldn’t have to watch Harry look at me in that powerful silence he emitted, that cold demeanor of his setting my nerves aflame from the intimidation the assassin easily exuded.

I wriggled against the hold of Harry’s harsh magic on me, not feeling myself budge from the press of the wall and the air in my lungs choking me as I felt myself grow hot.

_Why wasn’t Harry putting me down?_

“H-Harry?” I spoke out through the pressuring quiet of the hallway, my voice high and nervous as I suckled at my bottom lip and looked back up at the man as I twitched about in an effort to try and get myself out of the magic hold.

I knew it was useless, but it was a good try.

I was embarrassed about the instant reaction my body gave near Harry. I wanted to get down so I could cover up my exposed clothed groin somehow without the Gryffindor knowing.

Harry raised his right hand out of his pocket, resting his curled knuckles beneath the curved, sharp line of his cheek to let the pad of his thumb sweep across the succulent skin of the bottom corner of his lip, the motion slow and deliberate as those green of his eyes went into a shade of a midnight laced jade.

My heart gave a slam against my rib cage as I watched, transfixed and fidgeting against the magic holding me up, how Harry bore his gaze into my own.

“Stop moving.” Harry spoke with an undertone of a demand, clear and evident in the low cadence of his voice, salacious and reminding me of hot milk and melted chocolate, dark and tempting and rough.

I let out a small hiccup, the order making the veins beneath my skin pulse double time as I felt the whole of my frame erupt in overwhelming heat and a lax, almost euphoric sensation skate over the now still flesh of my body. There was no stopping the way my person reacted to the tone of voice the assassin spoke out with that simple demand.

I quickly went still, limbs limp and hanging from the force holding me up, breathing raggedly as if I had been been running a marathon, eyes falling heavy as I did as I was told without any struggle, energy simmering low in my abdomen and causing me to part my lips and wet them with the tip of my wandering tongue.

This only happens with Harry when he commands me to do something.

What kind of reaction is this?

Is something wrong with me?

Looking up at Harry, I mumbled out my words. “Put me … down.” Even though I was practically like a limpet, there was still the need to go against people’s orders bubbling within my frame of mind, a usual habit I’ve contained since I was young and learned to defy anyone acting like they can boss me around.

 _Harry isn’t acting though. He_ knows _he’s got control over you._

Oh fucking hell.

Heat coiled deep in my gut and made me gasp out at the sudden sensation.

Harry gave me a blank expression, defined features set into a harsh lines that shown the extent of his gorgeous structure, low lighting a dimmed halo that seemed to fade away into the blackness of the wall as shadows surrounding seemed to have been tainted from touching the sinister prominence of Harry’s essence.

“Are you going to a good boy, _Kitten._ ” It wasn’t a question, but a statement that left the cupid bow shaped lips of Harry’s, low and guttural and _raw_ with brutality.

What a bastard.

Arrogant, son of a bitch.

_Sexy, infuriating …_

I gave a light narrow of my eyes his way as I struggled to get the words out that I know he wanted to hear, my shame and pride stopping me from giving Harry full power over me.

_You want him to though._

Shutupshutupshutupshutup!

If I gave in, my submission would show how much I liked Harry to allow him to have all the reigns over me. I liked the idea of it. I’ve always wanted to have someone take control and have power over me but the Malfoy embedded into me since I was a child felt mortified at such thoughts that have lingered there since I the first teenage years of my sexual awakenings.

I don’t want to like Harry.

It made me vulnerable.

And Harry didn’t like me back so developing more feelings for him more would be a fucking nightmare.

Harry must have noticed my struggle to say what he wanted me to from the way the Gryffindor let the pad of his thumb catch at the dip in the middle of his bottom lip, showing the gleaming white of his teeth in the obsidian of the hallway with a simple flick of the appendage, and letting out the smallest sound of a wicked snicker.

The sound cut through the heavy atmosphere surrounding us. With the simple small movement of Harry’s thumb against his lip and the noise he emitted, Harry’s magic responded to the unspoken command he alluded and made me give away a combined squealing gasp when I felt the force of his energized power tighten on the hold of my wrist and yank my legs further apart.

My eyes became huge at the way the magic seemed to broil along the skin of my body as something hot and toxic slithered down the flat of my stomach in an inky smokey like filter, wrapping itself around my prodding cock with a vicious squeeze.

I jerked against the wall, breath wheezing past my gaping, surprised mouth as I felt my person wrack with shivers at the pressure around my prick.

“H-Harry, stop! I-I, oh _fuck_!” My head fell back, pressing it against the wall behind me as the the magic slipped its way between the spread of my thighs and caressed the curves of my bum, lightly ghosting over the jean clad hole of my arse, burning and mocking.

“Let me ask you again, just one more time. You going to be a good boy, Malfoy?” Harry’s deep rumbling timbre of a voice seemed to have slipped along with the heat of his magic around my groin and arse, confining me.

When the magic started to heat up like risings flames sparking in the midst of a quiet forest, it felt as if invisible probing fingers skimmed past the low hitch of my jeans, making my skin quake and my chest constrict with the halting oxygen in my brain and lungs from the the sinful touch.

I panicked at the pleasure coursing through my body.

Shaking my head back and forth against the wall, I tugged against the magical binds that descended into my limbs and burrowed their way beneath my warmed flesh.

I’ve never been felt this way before.

Hell, I never had someone touching me this way. Especially with their own fucking magic. The only pleasure I felt was with my hand on my cock or my fingers desperately shoving in and out of my hungry hole whenever I felt the urge or need to satisfy the burning ache in my gut. 

This was all new to me.

I was _shaking._

This couldn’t go on.

_Ah fucking hell!_

“Yes! I’ll b-be good, Harry. _Please_ , let me go?!” My voice came out breathy and high, breaking at the shifting tone levels as I panted against the wall in an effort to try and get away from the magic flicking heat across parts of flesh that I’ve never given any thought to that would be so _sensitive._

Snapping my head forward, my back jarred against the wall as it gave a harsh spasm from how I found my face just a sliver of air away from Harry’s, the rushing breath of my lips aligned with the assassin’s.

The Gryffindor crowded into my space, looming over me with the tall frame of his fit stature, the enticing scent of his blanketing my senses and the furnace of his body heat playing across the constrained limbs of my person. I stared back at him in shocking fear and rousing inflammation.

The man’s movement was too quick for me to catch with my eyes, one second standing against the wall opposite from me and the next right in front of my frame. The magic had suddenly stilled in its motions around me when I gasped brokenly. Harry had pressed the side of his forearm along the wall right beside the left of my head, leaning in further and causing me to rear back at the ominous fervent air he gave away.

I trembled against the wall, having no way to run or hide from Harry’s imposing figure.

I could make out the press of the Gryffindor’s abdomen against his shirt, outlining the hard rows of abs as he breathed steadily across the part of my moist mouth, shoulders broad and all encompassing. His arm tensing in their cords of muscles beside my head.

Harry’s eyes gave nothing away, just rendering me flayed in front the jaded, ruby hued orbs that penetrated into my very skin and left me staring up at him with a look of dismay and timidity.

_Harry was too close._

My cock is going to pop out of my jeans with how hard I was.

“Alright.” Harry responded to my plea, low and viciously pleased, the edges of his succulent lips curling up into a malicious irreverent grin, dirty and downright sensual.

I felt my body become weightless then, the magic having evaporated in the blink of an eye as I yelped out from the abrupt release of Harry’s power around me.

Instead of falling face first onto the floor, Harry took one blindingly fast step towards me to have my body crumble over his as I felt the heated flesh of Harry's left hand grip the small of my waist with a bruising force, digging his fingers into the skin of my side and shoving me forward onto him, the whole of his muscled body causing me to let out a tiny breathy whimper.

My hands went on autopilot and subconsciously grabbed fistfuls of Harrys’ shirt on his torso, evidently smashing my hands against my upper chest with his as I was pulled up onto my toes and forced to clutch onto Harry so I wouldn’t fall from the way my legs wobbled in their weakened state.

The hard line of my cock pressed against the top of his powerful thigh and I shivered.

With my breaths coming out hard and chopped, my eyes whipped up to meet Harry’s as he let out a scoff before gripping my waist hard enough to leave crescent moon shapes of his blunt nails into my skin and letting the front of my frame slowly drag its way down the length of the assassin’s hard body.

The friction of my cock brushing against the muscular thigh of Harry’s from beneath my jeans as I was helpless in the man’s arms while I slid down his frame, had me give out a pathetic whine high in the back of my throat, my tummy rubbing up against his defined stomach.

Why is Harry doing this?!

_He knows you like him. Harry’s making fun of you for it._

_Pathetic._

I was too shocked and hot to do anything, becoming limp in Harry’s embrace.

“ _O-O-Oh_.” I gasped out loud, my fingers opening and closing around the Gryffindor’s shirt as I shook within the bones of my body and left my mouth hanging open from the sheer pleasure I felt at the press of both our skin together.

In an instantaneous moment, I was let go, the soles of my feet stumbling across the dirt floor of the hallway. My back collided once again with the wall behind me as I used its flat surface to hold the jelly like limbs of my person.

But that didn’t do shit for me.

My knees buckled form under my weight, making me stagger across the wall as I slid down the hard surface and breathed rapidly with the rise and fall of my chest. I looked up at Harry, who had taken a step back and looked down at me with a raise of his brow, eyes dark and hair glinting from the low lighting above us.

He had shoved his hands back in his pockets and that same bored expression flitted across his face, leaving me cold and _wanting._

And I was _fuming_ with angered shame.

“Why do you do _that!?_ ” I hissed out through the trembling of my bottom lip, staring up at Harry with a slight curl of my mouth, trying to find some dignity from having Harry push me around like some useless tool that he keeps telling me that I was.

“Do what?” Harry’s voice caused a riotous shiver to cascade down the length of my spine and back up, hot and heavy and filled with collected cruelty.

I held back the sob that threatened to tear its way out of my working throat, my chest aching with the very knowledgeable fact that Harry most likely knew about my stupid crush for him and was taunting me for it.

“Y-you know what! You keep touching and teasing me, physically and mentally and I can’t-” A deeply familiar voice rang out through the turmoil of my roughened words, the sound arrogant and dripping with accented tones that was thick and rich.

“Now what can I do for you, Harry? It’s not everyday that I get to see you.” Viktor Krum spoke out to the right of my bent frame against the wall that I slumped over for support, his shadowed figure now coming into light as he stepped closer to both Harry and I.

My face warmed before I felt a trickle of ice skate down my spine in the wake of my awareness of myself and the words I was about to yell at Harry in my fit of sexual frustration and hurt. I knew that Krum had heard my angered words since the fucking hallway was so silent, any noise would be heard, our voices ringing loud and clear through the darkened walkway.

I straightened up on weak limbs, avoiding Harry’s gaze that I’m sure wasn’t even focused on me because the Gryffindor barely gives me any attention for a certain amount of time before completely disregarding me. I’m surprised he even interacted with me for more than five minutes.

I was also mortified and pissed off at myself for letting Harry toy with me like that.

But the assassin was terrifying when he acted cold and hot constantly. And the situation only worsened when my body reacted to every little thing the man did.

_You need to get over Harry._

_He doesn’t want you, Draco._

Krum’s footsteps made light dust from the earthy floor mystify around each slow step he took towards Harry and I, dark hazel etched eyes sliding back and forth for my person to Harry’s and his handsome sharp features glinting off the lights floating above our heads. Krum looked the same, that cocksure smile branded on the tilt of his lips and body reminding me of a boxer’s build, stocky and a little short but still a couple inches taller than me. He packed more muscle though, the Bulgarian lad looking as if he was on steroids with the way his muscles bulged against his obscenely too tight shirt. The light mahogany strands of his tousled hair reached past his shoulders, making him look like a fucking cavemen in that nest of dark locks with his prominent gruff beard.

Krum gave off the impression of being over the top with his every exaggerated, slow step.

I wanted to wring the Bulgarian’s neck. I was in an enough bitchy mood now with the conflicting emotions warring inside of my body like a fucking hurricane. And the man didn’t have to interrupt my words even though I kind of appreciated it since he stopped me from digging my own grave when I was about to tell Harry that I _liked_ him.

Pulling on my own indifferent face that I was sure Harry had on his, I chewed on the insides of my cheeks as the assassin responded to Krum’s words.

“Draco and I are going to stay at your place for a few weeks if you don’t mind. I want no one knowing about this, no one that could potentially bring harm.” Harry’s voice was hard and full, drawing out with a low rumble that was sure to come off as a threat and not belonging to someone that was asking a question.

Krum let out a sigh, acting nonchalant, although I could see the tremor in the man’s arms that were crossed over his wide chest, clearly revealing the nerves he produced with the way Harry spoke and the intimidating presence of the Chosen One. “Of course Harry. Draco and you can stay in the guest rooms at the back. The people who come and go here won’t bring you trouble, of course they’d try to talk to you because they’ll be star struck, but they have nothing to gain with trying to pick a fight with the most powerful wizard.” Krum’s response shook in his tones, just barely.

Krum didn’t even question why Harry and I needed no one knowing about us being here.

And I have no idea where we are.

When Harry nodded in assent towards Krum, the Bulgarian’s brown gaze shifted away from the assassin to watch me in the low lighting of the hallway, eyebrows lifting in an arrogant fixture and lips pulling back to show me his pearly white teeth. “You’ve grown up to be such a sweet, cute little tart. I mean, you’ve always been one but your arse has gotten even more plump and those lips are a fucking sin. I bet you’d look _real_ nice with a cock shoved into that snarky red mouth of yours-”

It was now my turn to interrupt the twat’s words, my teeth clenching together in irritation and the need to hide away from everyone with how my day’s been going. I wasn’t going to be taking shit from someone right now. Thank fuck my hard on was gone though, being mad and showing my arousal didn’t make me look as bitchy as I would like.

“It would be very much appreciated if you didn’t open that fish mouth of yours and talk about my appearance as if I was some sort of object. And let’s be honest here, last time I saw you, you had pushed me down a flight of stairs back in Hogwarts during the triwizard tournament. Don’t act like you like me when you don’t.” There was no fluctuation in my voice, just pure admission and a bluntness that sounded like my words could cut through marble.

I remember specifically how Krum decided to “accidentally” push me down the Hufflepuff's set of stairs that led to the first level of Hogwarts. I didn’t attend the ball because father thought that it was useless and pathetic of me to associate myself with wizards below our level and forced me not to go. I had been minding my own business with my nose in one my potions textbook that night before I heard Krum yell out at me about being a pansy little bitch from beside me out of nowhere and found myself being shoved violently down the set of steps before flipping out my wand and casting a spell to hover my frame above the steps before my body would be damaged beyond belief.

I still don’t know why Krum did that.

I was too shocked and scared at the thought of almost breaking every part in my body down those steps to get pissed off at the Bulgarian. Instead, I had quickly walked off and went back to the Slytherin dorm rooms to cry like a baby.

That scared me.

But I wouldn’t take Krum’s shit now.

“That was a long time ago, I swear I’m a changed man now. No more anger issues, Little Dove.” The Bulgarian’s voice didn’t hold any hostility in the rising of his placating tones, the jasper of his eyes lowering in a somewhat sheepish, guilt driven manner as he shrugged in his discomforted shame.

The man seemed genuinely sorry.

I wouldn’t let myself be careless around him though. Just because someone shows their apology through their body language and expressions doesn’t mean that they mean it. I would be willing to forgive the Bulgarian but the paranoid Malfoy seeded deep within me wouldn’t allow such an easy forgiveness from my person.

I tipped my chin up, nose in the air as I urged myself to not look toward Harry, feeling him watch the both of us interact in his quiet, overwhelming observation. “Don’t give me any nicknames. Let’s just stay out each other’s way and we’ll get along _fine._ ” My words were short and fast.

Krum stared on at me with his face set into stone, seeming to take my words into consideration before giving me a slow nod in agreement and turning his gaze back towards Harry. “All of my guest rooms are filled except for one, so you’re probably going to have to share. Also … I suggest that Draco doesn’t wander around the club by himself.” His voice was pitched low, as if to attempt to have his words not heard by my ears even though I was right in front of him. It made me even more angry at the fact that Krum was talking about me with Harry like the damn Gryffindor was the one responsible for me, not myself.

It took a few seconds for my brain to register what Krum had said, brows drawing in together even more.

_Club?_

Whipping my head towards Harry, I pursed my lips in consternation. “Where are we?”

Harry’s emerald gaze slid back over to mine as he regarded me with the intensity of his eyes. “I can’t specifically tell you the location of where we’re at for the sake of your safety, but I can tell you that we’re in Krum’s exclusive sex club.” His voice was leveled with barely any fluctuation within his low drawl.

I couldn’t help but slightly gape up at him for that.

Krum let out a long sigh then, causing me to blink and turn my head away from Harry’s dark gaze to look back at the Bulgarian. “This club is my house as well. You’re currently underground but, since Harry has said I can’t tell you exactly where you are, I can’t tell you anymore of the place you’re in. I will tell you that this sex club has been running for over three years and is only available to the highest royalties in both muggle and wizard world. They come here specifically to have sex with anyone they want in the most kinkiest, dirtiest form they can imagine. The only rules here is that no one is to hurt someone without consent. This place is stacked with guards. I don’t want you wandering around because, well … you reek of virginity and are too pretty to _not_ pass up. People here will eat you alive, Little Dove.” Krum’s voice hinted at an exasperation of sorts, as if he was reciting something from his own self created guidebook.

I stood very still, my heart hammering harsh against my chest as I blinked at the man before me, soaking in the information.

_What the fuck?_

I was in an underground sex facility that catered to the most rich. Why the hell does Krum run this sort of place? Does he have a thing for sex clubs? And what’s up with everyone creating their own businesses these days? Blaise just created his own club but it was made for more of a dancing and letting loose with some sex thrown in kind of scene. I was sure that since Krum referred to his club as a place specifically for sex, it was probably more indecent than Astringent was.

And how the _hell_ does Harry know about this sort of place?

Then I remembered what Krum said about my virginity, my mouth pursing into a confusedly shamed and angered pout. “Like I said, don’t call me by any nicknames. And what makes you think I’m a virgin, Krum?” My words came out stilted and strained with a broiling rage, cheeks turning a profuse shade of pink that I couldn’t cover up for the life of me.

Harry spoke then, his voice rumbling in the wicked tundra of his words, causing my eyes to snap back over to the relaxed and confident form of Harry’s powerful body, my own trembling at the sound of his voice. “Krum and the members of his club can smell you out. Krum made a potion for him and his customers to have the knowledge of who has been untouched and who has fucked in their span of lifetime. They dab it beneath their nose and can gain the ability to decipher which one is which, for personal preference in knowing who they want to go after, a virgin or a sexually experienced person.”

I simply watched Harry beneath the stricken round of my eyes, mortified at the notion that everyone I’ll be coming into contact with in the damn club will _know_ that Draco Malfoy is a virgin. “S-so that means …”

Harry’s lips made a minute shift, so small that I swear I probably imagined the quick grin he let sprawl out over his handsome features before finishing my faded sentence for me, tone deep and foreboding and mocking. “They’ll smell your intact virginity, Malfoy.”

My breath stuttered in my throat, cheeks burning to a high degree as I heard Krum chuckle softly. “A lot of the members like their sex partners untouched. So I think you should stay clear of the main part of the club, _The Hunting Grounds,_ is what everyone calls it.”

I couldn’t help the splutter of my mouth in indignation, tearing my gaze away from Harry’s as I felt my body heat up under the Gryffindor’s. I clenched my hands into tight fists repeatedly, pressing my lips together to keep myself from screaming out in embarrassment.  

“Right. Well. It’s not like I’m interested in involving myself with such vulgar behavior. Now can we move on from this subject so I can get some rest from this exhausting day?” I asked my question through the grit of my teeth, refusing to meet the two men’s gazes that I felt were boring into my very flesh.

I heard the small shift of Harry’s feet nearby and saw his figure start down the hallway, his shoulders back in a laze like manner, voice dripping like sin from his mouth. “Come on, _Princess_. You’re probably hungry since you didn’t eat this morning, so we'll get you some food before resting. I’ll have Granger drop off the clothes she got you in our guest room by tomorrow.”

Krum fell into step beside Harry, both of them ignoring my presence and assuming that I would follow, which sadly, I would. I had no idea where I was and this hallway was significantly creepy enough for me to not want to be left behind in the area by myself.

I begrudgingly followed, biting down on my tongue to prevent myself from snapping at Harry for calling me “Princess”.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

I flicked my gaze over the large cherry red painted steel doors, my footsteps faltering when I watched Krum step forward and press the base of his right hand palm over the center of enclosed entrances.

Harry was silent beside me, the warmth of his body radiating towards me like the surface of the heated sun. I couldn’t hear any sound come from the sudden opening of the steel doors, my eyes widening when I took in the black of the whole room that looked to be the size of two mansion like ballrooms, decked out in low lighting like the bulbs that hung above my head in the hallway we recently walked through. Except the lights that made the shimmering obsidian walls and floors of the area were made up fireballs instead, flickering flames that brightened and dimmed the entirety of the room yet lighting the way in a soft, seducing luxury.

There were no upper levels, except for the stairs to the far sides that led down into whatever other rooms this place had.

Music hummed softly, bass beating timidly and wickedly over the skin of my person.

People were strewn about the floor, quite literally, tangled naked bodies moving frantically or excruciatingly slowly as they writhed, moaned and groaned in their bliss of sexual pleasure. Of course, black leather furniture were arranged on different spots over the huge expanse of the gleaming floor, some red lush carpets catering beneath the writhing, sweat slicked bodies.

Two bars flanks on each side of the room from my left and right, red fluorescent lights beaming down over the bartenders who catered to their customers. Some people were bare in their exposed flesh, some barely wearing any clothing and some completely in covering outfits.

I could hear the low chatter of the royal members drone throughout the whole room, groups mingling together while others just went at it like animals.

This place definitely fit the whole “sex club” theme.

My attention was broken away from the scene in front of me when I saw Krum snap his head towards Harry with his brows furrowing in a look of fleeting confusion. “How did you mask his sce-”

Harry’s voice was sharp and filled with a vicious timbre, causing my spine to go tingle and a heat to suffice low in my quivering abdomen as the harsh lines of his green eyes flashed with a shadowed hue. “That’s something for you to keep your nose out of.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, befuddlement taking over the whole of my brain as I tried to understand what the hell these two were chatting about. “W-what are you guys talking about?”

Krum gave a sharp nod towards Harry as he gestured to the set of stairs to the left of the large room. “Duly noted. You’re room number is 366, when you’re hungry, just apparate on upstairs to the dining hall and have one of my chefs cook for you. The only way to get to your room is taking the set of stairs to your left, the right set leads to the “Chamber” as I call it.… where BDSM members reside.” The Bulgarian decided to completely sway from my question, his voice in a low murmur now as he watched his customers writhe before him with a fondness settling in the confident curve of his lips.

I still wanted to know about what Harry and Krum were talking about to have the Chosen One become harsher than he normally was all of the sudden. But then the subject of BDSM flooded my senses and my my mouth dropped only a little to let out a rush of exalted air, a warmth tangling itself around my waist and playfully flicking at the dip of my hip bones.

There was the nagging sensation, searing and wanton that coursed through my frame at the idea of having someone have complete control over me, mentally and physically sexually. When I was in my Seventh year in Hogwarts, I had snuck into the Hufflepuff's quarters during Halloween. I had heard rumors that the surprisingly filthy group of Hufflepuff’s indulge themselves in sex parties each year during Halloween and I grew curious enough to ditch my school work and sneak into their facilities to be gobsmacked at the way they were treating each other. The Hufflepuffs were naked and they were sexing each other up with whips and chains and simple smacks and other such BDSM etiquette. 

I was enraptured and horrified at the fact that my prick had risen up beneath my sleep pants that night. I didn’t know what was happening at first, not until I ran to my dorm room and searched up about the sexual practices I saw going on with the Hufflepuff’s and got my conclusion.

Ever since, BDSM had been something that I was truly interested in even though I’ve never experienced it myself. And I couldn’t really do anything about it since my reputation of being an ex death eater and a Malfoy to boot always made anyone think twice about associating themselves with me. How could I even get into the BDSM scene when no one wanted me, physically or mentally.

I bit down on my lip then, gaze sliding over to the dark stairs that led down, down, _down_ …

Perhaps tomorrow I should try to escape from Harry for a little bit and see how the Chamber is. It’s not like Harry would care about my whereabouts as long as I stayed in the vicinity of Krum’s club.

Just a peak.

“ _Malfoy_.” I jumped from where I stood, a squeak escaping my lips as I turned my head, regrettably, away from the right set of stairs, heart thrumming wildly against my chest as the broiling sensation of arousal gathered in my gut. The brutal, deep timbre of Harry’s voice breaking through my haze of thoughts not helping me stop the heat from sufficing in the hollow of my stomach.

“Y-yes?” I managed to breathe out, watching as Harry became abnormally still, a dark enitity before me as he let the glowing embers of the red of his eyes pin me to the spot with cruelty forcing itself down onto me enough to let me shrink back from the demand oozing out of the man before me, cock twitching excitedly at the look.

_What did I do?_

“You are to stay in the guest room. No wandering about. Alright.” There was no question in the tone of Harry’s voice, just a demand.

Like hell was I going to stay in my room. There was a BDSM level right below me and I was _not_ passing up the opportunity to see what it was like.

I tried plastering on a blank face as I gazed back up at Harry, trying to hide the tremor I felt in my body from having to be under Harry’s focus again. “Fine. But the least you could do is let me have some ice cream after I get some real food in my system.”

I wasn’t going to do what Harry said. I was going to go to the Chamber downstairs when Harry was asleep or distracted long enough for me to have some fun once in a while. I also really wanted some ice cream tonight since that was what I had been craving for the past two days. Having some ice cream should keep me occupied for the rest of the day considering how I always put my sole focus on the damn delicacy whenever I eat it. And then tomorrow, when Harry thinks that I’m behaving, I’ll make my move to get the hell out of the room somehow.

The thought of disobeying Harry sent a thrilled, heated fear down my spine and I reveled in it.

_Harry’s going to punish you if he finds you gone from the guest room._

And maybe, well … perhaps I wanted Harry mad. The Gryffindor had done nothing but make me feel humiliated and hot and bothered. This was a sort of pay back to him.

I had to show Harry that I wasn’t so easy to tame.

_You’re going to regret this._

Mentally shaking my head, I didn’t wait for Harry’s response to my words, quickly shuffling my way over the the left set of stairs with my heart in my throat at not waiting for Harry’s consent to giving me some sweets. Perhaps if I ignored his protest, than he’d reluctantly let me have some.

I heard only bits and pieces of Krum’s voice from behind me as he spoke lowly to Harry, my feet bringing me closer to the set of stairs that would lead me to the guest room I was to stay in with a determined, shaken stride. “Oblivious to … surroundings.”

What the hell are they talking about?

Huffing out in annoyance, I took one step onto the first set of the stairs leading down before I yelped out when a hot breath grazed over the sensitive skin of the back of my neck, causing me to stutter in my walking. “I'll give you some ice cream. Only if you keep your mouth shut for the rest of the night after.” Harry’s voice rumbled over my flesh, and I let out a shuddering breath at the sound of it.

“Deal.” I murmured, staring down the blackened set of stairs before me.

The heat of Harry’s body shifted away from my own, my eyes looking beside my right as I watched Harry’s broad shoulders disappear down the staircase, movements slow and measured with a powerful air about himself. Enticing and severe.

“Come on, Kitten.” The tone in Harry’s words were laced with a dark foreboding sense of an impending threat, the sound dripping like burnt candle wax cooling over the twitching sweat of my flesh, curling an invisible hardened grip over my lungs and causing my stomach to dip profusely with an alarming heat.

It was then that I felt like if I stepped down the stairs and followed Harry, something would be taken from me, forcefully and without any warning, encroaching quickly and inevitably consuming and the air around me.

It felt like I was walking into a cage where an animal lied and waited for me.

A malicious air shoving into me and over me.

And that was ridiculous.

Right?

But Harry’s voice coaxed me to disregard the warning in the back of my head to stay away from this man, alluring and inescapable.

It was probably all in my head anyway.

Without further hesitation, I took the first step on the stairs leading down to where I would be staying for the next two weeks.

And as I watched the back of Harry’s head, the obsidian chipped strands of his hair seeming even darker than the Stygian of the narrow staircase, I shook, breath halting in my working throat and my chest tightening with burning dread and overbearing heat.

It felt as if the malevolent air I felt at this exact moment was coming from Harry.

But that couldn’t be true, could it?

I followed him, though.

My head in a dizzied confoundment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Tumblr: ReimCai
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> Check it out! The blog kind of gives some teasers away and leaves you to your own imagination.
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> READ THIS: I'll be posting this weekend on Sunday, early or later in that day, so yay!


	5. Calcine: A Constraint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally, this chapter was longer and I decided to leave a good portion of it out and put it as its own chapter because really, it is. This update will show you guys a little more insight on how Harry and Draco's characters are and introduces some new characters, mwaha. Next update is really going to be a roller coaster ride, so bear with me! Thanks for the support and hope you guys are liking the story because I have so much fun writing it!
> 
> Leave any comments or questions, I love them always! 
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> Read on, my lovelies!

 

I let out a soft hum, the cool of my lips pursing around the silvered spoon slipped between the press of my puckering mouth as the sides of my cheeks hollowed out, the slick sound of my suckling around the utensil reverberating throughout the quiet of the large room.

The cold dollop of vanilla ice cream creamed over the expanse of my seeking tongue, a delicate sweet soft flavor exploding inside of the caverns of my greedy mouth as a tuneless purr emitted from deep within my chest, content and pleased.

I finally got some fucking godsdamn ice cream.  

Looking around at my bearings as I held the spoon precariously in between my lips, I let the gleaming silver object dangle from my mouth as I sat cross legged over the large surface of my lush bed.

The guest room that Krum let Harry and I stay in for the next two weeks was huge. The singular term “room” should be turned into a plural phrase since there was more than one room in this large space. The place was decked in pristine dark Mahogany wooden floors and walls with the tiniest golden trims lining the bottom, top and sides of the walls. Once entering through the large area, the place opened up to a living room covered with plush dark furniture and a flat screen TV that took up practically half the wall to its left. There were two walk in entrances on each side of the living room that catered to mine and Harry’s separate rooms.

Both our rooms had the same color scheme of the living room with hard wooden floors and pastel light toned beige silk covered beds with large creamy marble peach hued bathrooms. The kitchen had that same soft white colored marble architecture that was positioned behind the living room, pristine and breathtaking.

Harry had conjured up some vanilla ice cream once I got settled into my own room and given me the delicious delicacy in a shimmering rose wine glass, the sweetened fluffy cold cream plopped into a sugar cone. The Gryffindor just walked right on into my room with an emotionless expression crossed over his handsome features, silently used magic without another given second and watched me squeal with delight when my ice cream literally popped up right in front of me from where I sat on the bed.

I didn’t even get the chance to give Harry a proper “thank you” before he turned on his heel and left me alone in my room to freak out over my desert.

I was happy though, and like I promised the assassin, since I got my ice cream, I kept my mouth shut around him for the rest of the night, and behaved. For now at least.

At the moment, as I sat here lapping the tip of my pink tongue across the vanilla flaked spoon, I didn’t know where Harry was. I had heard the front door open and close and no other sound than that. I assumed Harry was gone.

The bastard left me here while he goes roaming around while I’m forced to stay inside.

Rude much?

Letting out a sigh, I flicked my gaze over to the muggle TV plastered to the wall opposite from my bed, the screen large and pitch black, showing the silhouette of my person sitting crisscrossed over my bed.

Since Granger couldn’t show up with the clothes she bought for me until tomorrow morning, I had asked Harry about what I was going to wear for the night and he simply cast his hand in a sweeping gesture to the night stand beside my bed and magically conjured up a white T-Shirt with flannel pinstripe pajama pants, soft and silky to the touch. Harry had given me my clothes the second I walked into my bedroom.

And now I was comfy.

But the thought of Harry mingling about in a sex club made my skin erupt in unwanted tremors, a sensation of an aching itch that made my flesh feel as if it wanted to set itself aflame to rid the hurt and anxiety flooding my system.

_Is Harry planning on fucking someone tonight?_

Furrowing my brows, I let out an irritated snicker around the curve of my spoon, blowing out an exaggerated breath while I pried the utensil out of my mouth to drop it into the now empty wine glass container and set it aside on my nightstand so I could push myself up and out of the bed.

I could do with watching some muggle TV shows, or movies.

I needed something to distract myself from running out of the guest room, out into the club, and searching for Harry just to make sure he wasn’t with someone.

I couldn’t remember most of the Discovery channel’s shows that passed by and through my gaze for the rest of the night. I was too tired and worn out to pay much attention.

 

 

* * *

 

 

I could feel myself being watched, the hazed spell of sleep slowly dissipating from the darkness of my vision and waking mind as the soft breathing escaping my breath mingled together with the other person’s own inhale and exhales that echoed throughout the entirety of my room.

A frown tugging annoyingly at the curve of my lips, I let the flutter of my lashes open and close rapidly as the bright lights of my room beamed down over my sprawled figure laid out haphazardly across the mess of my bed sheets that tangled together with my limbs.

Bright colors significantly obscured my view for the briefest moments before dimming down into the soft, calming lull of low colors that my room provided.  

Jutting out my bottom lip, I let my gaze follow the sensation of eyes watching over my lying frame, dragging my attention over to the open doorway of my room to startle at the sight of a familiar man that, up until now, I assumed was dead.

Sirius Black stared down at me with a light uptick of his lips, the sharp features of his cheekbones and jawline more prominent than the last time I saw him. The man was as tall as my father was, perhaps a little bit taller, with his broad shoulders and lean and muscled body seeming to fill up the entrance way of my room. Sirius had the curls of dark, smoky black hair falling to his shoulders in wispy curves, mussed and roughened. The steel gray of his eyes were heavy and focused on my person, shadowed and watching in silence.

I couldn’t help the tiny open gape of my mouth as I stared back at the not-so-dead man before me, surprised and an uncomfortable awkwardness seeping into my bones.

Seeing Sirius Black when having just woken up was rather … mind jarring, to say the least.

“U-Uhm … Can you please explain to me why you’re watching me sleep and how you’re alive Sirius?” My groggy morning voice filtered throughout the stilted air between us.

I didn’t like the thought of calling Sirius by his surname given the fact that I used to call my relative by a formal term when I couldn’t give two fucks about him from dealing with my own life and death situations. But now, I felt like I owed the man a familiarity between each other by calling him by his first name with the knowledge that I could start over with my family member and perhaps show him that I wasn’t the bitch that I made myself out to be when we first were introduced. The thought that I had at least one relative now when I thought I had no one anymore for the past few years, made me want to keep my cousin in hopes of feeling like I had a family, even small, again.

_He probably hates you._

And hell, Sirius was dead as far as I knew and now that he wasn’t, the man deserved to be called by his first name, to be recognized as his own person again.

Sirius’ lips tugged up even more to reveal a sharp grin, filthy and unexpected in terms of how I thought my cousin would react to seeing his bratty younger relative once again. “Well, I was going to wake you up for some good ole breakfast because gods knows that Harry will probably forget to feed you, but then I saw how cute and pretty you are when you’re not giving snark at others and decided to take in the sight of Draco Malfoy being silent and lovely for once. Not everyday anyone gets to see such a thing early in the morning.” Sirius’s voice sounded with a low, teasing cadence, raspy in the way age gives to a person. Much deeper than the last time I saw him.

I gave my cousin a bored look, my cheeks hinting at a flush of red from the man’s words. Sirius held himself like Harry, but without the overwhelming sinister demanding presence that the assassin carried around with himself. The way they looked at people were the same though, heavy and focused, just less intense than when Harry did it.

I opened my mouth to retort but Sirius spoke again before I could make a sound. “Ah, you even blush like a whore. No wonder Harry-”

Someone walked in to stand beside Sirius, a guy who looked around my age with feathery light brown hair and amber flecked eyes. The boy interrupted my cousin’s words as he rose up on the tip of his toes to draw his face near Sirius’ and brush the bottom of his lip against the black haired man’s cheekbone to whisper words spoken into my cousin’s ears.

Sirius’ lips twitched at whatever the boy told him before the man’s gaze slid back over to me with a raise of his brows. “It seems my boyfriend needs me to help him with cooking the eggs, so I shall leave you for now-”

This time, I cut off my cousin’s words with a confused, irritated snip out of my mouth. “You still didn’t answer my question as to how you were alive. And I don’t appreciate someone I don’t know coming into my room without my permission.”

Boyfriend?

I guess my cousin was into guys too.

I snapped my gaze over the brown haired boy and narrowed my eyes when said boy flinched at my tone.

There was no way I was going to feel guilty about giving snark to someone who decided that my room was some sort of open space that people could just walk in and out of as they pleased. I could allow Sirius to do such a thing because he was my cousin.

I didn’t like how I was seen in such a vulnerable manner with my brain barely functioning from having been woken up all of the sudden though.

I was not a morning person at all.

Sirius brought his hand up to curl his arm around the back of the brown haired boy’s torso and bring him closer into his side in an intimate gesture, his fingers drumming playfully along his boyfriend’s side enough to make the boy squirm in his grip. “When Bellatrix tried hitting me with Avada Kedavra, Harry had apparated my figure to the Forbidden Forest where he later found me and told me to hide out for the rest of the war. I didn’t have much say in the decision considering my godsdamn godson put a chained spell on me that made my essence attach itself to the vicinity of the forest. If I was to step foot out of the place, my skin would burn and my stomach would become nauseous to the point where I would throw up, so needless to say, Harry faked my death against my will. But I’m alive and I have to thank him for that.”

_Oh holy hell._

Harry was already powerful enough to do wandless magic at such a young age to transfer his own godfather to another territory without Bellatrix or the other death eaters having known about it. The Gryffindor had fooled everyone into thinking that Sirius was dead with his mourning attitude and somber expressions.

_It seems Harry was just as controlling with his surroundings and the people he associated himself with even when he was young._

_Powerful. Dangerous._

Sirius’s boyfriend had spoken finally, his eyes looking up at me from beneath his caramel tinged lashes, his rounded glowing flamed gaze wide and nervous. “Excuse my manners, I’m sorry for barging in. I really can’t cook for the life of me and Sirius left me to my own devices without giving me a heads up. I-I’m Caetia. It’s nice to meet you, Draco.”

I kind of hated Caetia.

The boy was too nice for his own good. The complete opposite of me. It made me wary and too self conscious. Caetia was a good looking boy with striking features and a slim figure that wasn’t as curvy as mine and made him actually look appealing as a male while I resembled too much of an dainty person with the way my hips were too wide and my arse more plump than a regular male’s. He had a better personality than me even.

_Stop comparing yourself to him for fucks sake, you insecure twat._

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes and hurt Caetia’s feelings with any obvious rejection in the tense line of my back, I let out a breathy sigh. “Next time knock, that would do to get on my good side, Caetia. And Sirius, please don’t ever watch me sleep again, it’s creepy as hell, and it’s nice to know that you’re alive.” I mumbled the last of my words out into the still air around me, embarrassed in showing my relief on behalf of my cousin’s living presence.

It was too early in the morning for me to be too much of a prissy person, I get grumpy, but the energy I have to put into being an angry bird takes a lot out of my slowly waking mind.

Sirius’ dark grey eyes trailed down the length of my ruffled frame, slow and perusing without any heat but instead with a look in his gaze that I couldn’t quite make out clearly. “Harry called me up to keep an eye on you while he’s out making sure the perimeter of Krum’s club isn’t compromised.”

I looked over at Caetia then. “And I’m guessing Sirius brought you along because he can’t seem to want to get his hands off of you?”

Caetia turned a profuse red at my words as he gave me a stuttered response, Sirius smirking like a Cheshire cat now. “Ah y-yes. And also, I work here … as a stripper for the third level of the club, the Dancing Hall, so to say.”

_How the hell did Sirius and Caetia meet?_

_In Krum’s club?_

I don’t wanna know.

I guess Caetia isn’t exactly the purest person in the room if he was going around shaking his boy bits in front of everyone. And there was no judgment from myself whatsoever considering killing people with my own hands and magic was a lot more worse than stripping for others eyes, not that there was any problem in that sort of work anyway. I wish I had that much confidence in my body to let most of my skin show.

I can praise Caetia for that.

Mentally shaking my head to rid them of my present thoughts, I looked over again at my cousin with a slow raise of my brow. “I appreciate you making me breakfast. I’ll be out in a couple minutes. So please let me get changed.”

I noticed the bags of clothes that Granger got me settled beside the foot of my bed and I planned to use whatever the redhead got me without any complaint. She seemed to know my sense of fashion, although the clothes weren’t as loose as I wanted them to be, but I couldn’t voice my thoughts on them since I didn’t want to attempt another shopping spree moment in fear of having someone be killed in front of me again.

Ugh.

I couldn’t promise myself that I would behave if I were to go out shopping since my mouth had a tendency to run off on its own and I had no plan on getting punished the way Harry had done to me by killing someone to teach me a lesson.

I saw Caetia start to tug at the short sleeve of Sirius’ shirt, the brown haired boy nudging his head towards the kitchen's space out of my room. “Give your cousin some privacy.”

Perhaps I’ll grow to like Caetia actually.

He seemed like a reasonable lad.

Sirius simply stared back at me for a good two minutes or so, the dark of his grey eyes watching the minute shift of my chest with every soft breath I took, observant.

Then the black haired man let out a soft sigh, shoulders falling into a relaxed state as he rolled them back to loosen the stiff muscles there, lips set into a fine line now as he waved the arm that wasn’t around his boyfriend in my general direction. “I shall, I shall. But Draco, darling, please do cover up that large purple and blue hickey on the side of your neck. It’s distracting.”

Before I could say anything more, my cousin and Caetia simply walked out and left my mind reeling at the words Sirius just proclaimed.

_The fuck?_

Leaping out of the mound of ruffled sheets on my bed, I disentangled my legs from around them so I could stumble on the soles of my feet as I tried to gain equilibrium with the sudden fast motion of my body so early in the morning. The harsh thudding of my confused heart slammed against my rib cage in a fit of nervous warmth at the thought of my skin being marked.

_How do you have a hickey when you were with no one last night?_

Rolling my bottom lip into my mouth so I could suckle at the flesh there, I made a fast track towards the bathroom of my room, bare feet slapping against the cool marble tile as I rounded into the area and swiftly turned my body to face the wall to wall mirror in front of me.

_Oh fuck._

“What in the _bloody_ hell?” My words were a disturbance to the quiet in the bathroom, broken at the pitch as a horrified mortification and befuddlement cascaded into the pit of my stomach, my cheeks hinting at a pink flush that rendered me speechless.

There was a _hickey,_ taking up about the length and size of my three fingers connected together. The bruise was gnarly, a brush of mauve and indigo hues of colors mingling in together to show the rise of my blood beneath the pale of my neck’s flesh, the shape disconfigured and harsh in the bathroom’s lighting.

I sure as hell didn’t give myself a bruise!

How did this happen? I didn’t do anything last night and I sure as fuck didn’t go out and get myself sucked on for shits and giggles.

An abrupt frigid air shoved its way into the lodge of my throat as another thought passed through the frantic workings of my mind.

_Did someone come into your room and touch you without your knowing?_

Harry was gone most of the time last night, hell, I fell asleep with the fact that Harry hadn’t come back into our guestrooms.

I raised the tip of my middle finger, precarious and trembling, to press the appendage against the mark over my neck, an exhalation of bewildered uneasiness skating over the cool of my skin.

Who did this to me?

Harry wouldn’t let anything happen to me, let alone allow someone to come into my room and mark me up without my knowing. Harry’s _job_ wouldn’t let him be so careless as to leaving me open and vulnerable to someone else.

_So how did you get this hickey?_

Curling the hand that was outstretched towards my neck into my shaking palm, I brought my arm back down to stare, dumbfounded, back at my reflection.

Maybe I moved around too much last night and hit my neck on something hard enough to bruise myself? That made a lot more sense. I had the tendency to flail about in my sleep.

Frowning back at myself, I twisted on my heel to make a fast walk out of my bathroom to the bag of clothes waiting for me to rummage through.

I’ll just have to find some shirt that could cover my neck from others around me, so as to not gain unwanted attention to the bruise marring my flesh so vividly. And the mark was most likely from my stupid arse getting hurt in the middle of the night as I slept, so it wasn’t much a big deal. But I’d like to cover up the hickey looking bruise to not have questions and assumptions be placed upon my person.

Wrestling out of my clothes, I shoved on black pants that form fitted to every dip and curve of my waist and long legs, the fabric a comfortable fixture of thin leather that was easy to move around in. The boxers I wore underneath were a silken navy blue that felt more like boy short panties more than anything, but they were nice to the touch nonetheless so I kept them on.

Tossing on a teal blue long sleeved top that dipped at my neckline, I found a thin scarf the same color of my shirt and immediately wrapped it loosely around the circumference of my burning neck.

The scarf will do to cover my weird bruise up from anyone’s prying eyes.

Left with only my pair of boots, I slipped those on and did my best to calm the racing jitter of my heart as I made my way out of my room, past the living room and into the kitchen where the smell of Italian sausage, eggs and biscuits wafted around me.

Yum.

But when I saw the whole of the kitchen, Sirius nor Caetia was awaiting for me, but the tall and lean, muscled form of Harry’s corded back shifting beneath the fabric of his mauve red short sleeve shirt met my eyes instead.

“It’s past eleven in the morning. Did you get enough of your beauty sleep, _Princess_?” Harry’s voice was rough, the low timbre rumbling throughout the space we shared in a deep tundra, soothing and intimidating as if he too, had just woken up.

I watched Harry through my low lidded gaze, a sizzling heat playing beneath my skin that had my breath quickening and arousal lulling awake in my groin as the Gryffindor turned around from the sink he stood in front of to face me, the laze like movement slow and confident.

Emerald eyes gleamed back at me from beneath dark lashes, Harry’s messy hair tousled and silken. Since we were literally beneath the ground like Krum had said, there was no sunlight but only the fluorescent lighting above my head to brighten the room. The light played with Harry’s features, indicating the sharpness of his cheekbones and jawline, modeler and gorgeous.

I hated how attracted I was to this man.

I crossed my arms over my chest, tilting my head to the side and feeling the strands of my hair brush against the skin of my cheeks and forehead with the simple movement. “Where were you last night?” My voice came out in a whispered strain instead of the stubborn lilt I was hoping for.

Harry leaned back against the kitchen sink, mimicking the tilt of my head in a mocking manner as he stared back at me with the harsh lines of his face catered into a neutral countenance. “Why so curious? Did you miss me that much?” Harry’s voice turned into a deeper cadence, taunting and burning through my flesh.

I felt heat crawl up my neck and over my cheeks then. “N-No, don’t be ridiculous. It’s just nice to know where my p-protector is wandering off to during the middle of the night.” I mumbled out my words, fast and breathy.

The assassin angled his head towards one of the cabinets to my left, the glow of his jaded eyes flickering with light and shadowed shades, enticing and breathtaking. “Why don’t you grab some plates to get some food and I’ll answer your question.” Harry’s tone was laced with an emotionless drawl, causing shivers to rake down the length of my spine from being put under that cold demeanor.

Huffing out a shaky sigh, I walked over to the cabinet, reaching my hand up to grab the handle and swing the cupboard open to groan inwardly at my own demise with the sight of the plates two shelves higher up than my regular height.

Fucking great.

Stretching up on the tips of my toes, I had to arch the curve of my back with the motion, the slim muscles of my calves and thighs tensing and working themselves sore as I brought my arm up and over my head to brush the tips of my fingers against the plates' outer frame. “I b-better get my answer because this a lot more harder than i-it looks.” I snipped out at Harry with my words coming out in a hissed stress.

My brows drew in together in concentration, fingers wiggling about to try and grasp a plate only to have the air in my lungs stutter to a halt when I felt the long line of a hard chest and abs press up against the shivering form of my bowed back, my feet skittering across the floor when my body jolted from its position at the sudden heated contact of another body.

 _Harry’s_ body.

Just the scent of cigars and chocolate dipped in warmed milk that specifically attached itself to the Golden Boy indicated that Harry was the one currently pressing me into the counter that wrapped around the whole of the kitchen, the jut of my hip bones jarring against the edged surface as my outstretched arm bent like a noodle in a state of shocked weakness at the single touch from Harry.

My cock filled with interest, perking up against the counter and causing my frame to tremble. “Wh-what are you doing?” My voice came out as a small squeak, breaths skittering as Harry angled his own hips flush against my arse, the warmth and press of his bulge settling in between the cleft of my arsecheeks and making me _squirm._

“You can’t seem to do anything without my help, Kitten.” Harry’s warm breath tickled at the back of my ear, voice low and thunderous as his chest shook my back with the way his tone vibrated through me.

I couldn’t _breathe,_ my lungs working faster and faster with each slight shift of Harry’s chest against my back, the light caress of his cock over my arse making my breath wheeze past my parted, astonished lips.

Harry brought down two plates from the shelves above my head, the movement causing his groin to nudge up against my bum and press me harder against the counter, a gasp leaving my wet mouth.

_Did Harry know what he was doing to me?_

“C-can you move away now-” I yelped out when Harry murmured into my ear and with a swift action, snapped his hips forward to nestle the long, hard and large line of his cock between my arsecheeks and bring my front to collide with the counter _hard._

“Need some cream for my coffee.” Harry’s voice dropped significantly, harsh and powerful as he made my prick rub up against the cabinet’s surface below, the pressure hot and heavy.

I watched with widened eyes and burning cheeks as Harry reached up again to snatch the container of coffee cream above my head, his bottom half rocking slightly into my arse and making my hands snap down to grab ahold of the edges of the counter, meek whimper escaping from my open mouth. “ _Harry_.”

My uttered words came out as a soft plead, unconsciously emitting from my vocal chords, a desperate edge to the frazzled sensations running amuck inside of my body at the press of Harry’s frame behind me.

I wanted to rip my mouth off at that moment.

As if a spell had been broken, the relaxed set of Harry’s person had become rigid, the muscles in his abdomen tensing up and the breath playing at my ear pausing for a moment as I held my own in anticipated dread.

Harry was off of my body in an instant, as if I was some sort of disease he wanted to rid himself of. My own body feeling bereft and cold now.

Curling my fingers around the edge of the counter in a painful dig of my nails, I let out a harsh breath as I turned back around to watch as Harry’s jaw ticked, the muscles tensing and working as if he was holding himself back from something, the corners of his eyes crinkled into a set of strained lines.

There was no sign that Harry was aroused. His cock not hard, his breaths even and the black of his pupils a normal dilated formation.

The assassin before me shown no discouraged appearance, gaze shuttering off any insight into whatever he was feeling as I tried to understand what had just happened between us. I could have sworn Harry was hard against me, or perhaps I was just conjuring up mentally deranged scenarios out of a happening that I _wanted_ to come true. Harry probably simply just wanted his coffee cream and brought me the plates for the sole reason of wanting to eat and drink quicker.

I was starting to go crazy around this man.

Imagining things that never happened.

It seemed as if I was angering Harry at my wanting for him though. I was so obvious about my stupid crush on the man that it made him want to stay clear of me.

Great.

Biting down on my lip and absentmindedly reaching my fingers up to brush them across the bruise of my neck , I jumped at the snarl that left Harry’s mouth, an animalistic low growl that had my stupid cock twitching and my skin breaking out in waves of heated tingles, fearful and warmed all at once. My eyes snapped up to meet Harry’s crimson, peridot etched gaze as the assassin leaned back against the kitchen island in the center a few feet away from me, the muscled cords of his arms flexing beneath his shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Why is there a hickey on your neck?”

Okay, so we’re going to ignore what just happened. Fine with me. I didn’t want to have a conversation on my sexual hallucinations involving Harry anyway. No need to point out how weird I am.

I stared at Harry with a dawning sense of terror then, my heart plummeting into my chest at the way the Gryffindor’s words were taut and vicious, demanding and ridden with an eerie calm compared to the tensed lines of the man’s body in front of me. “I-It’s not a _hickey_ , for fucks sake. I woke up with it and-”

“Take off that scarf.” Harry’s voice brook no argument, but there was a sense of panic from my person in the way the assassin spoken his words, low and frightening.

_Harry doesn’t like the thought of you having a mark._

_Maybe he doesn’t like thinking that someone else put a bruise on you._

I wanted to bash my head into concrete at my quick thoughts, wanting to squash whatever hope I had for Harry actually wanting me back like I wanted him.

The Golden Boy probably wants to make sure his job wasn’t injured or something like that.

Words were spewing forth from my mouth before I could stop them. “I’ll take it off if you tell me where you were last n-night?”

It felt like I was bargaining with the devil himself.

Harry’s eyes darkened, the red of his gaze turning into a bloodied shade as the green flickered into a poisonous foliage, sinister and tinted with a foreboding film. “Let’s play a game. For every question I answer, you do as I tell you too, no complaints whatsoever, since you’re such a stubborn _Kitten_.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, my mind going haywire at the proposition Harry set up for both him and I.

I could ask Harry about whatever I wanted to know, the questions that have been shoved to the far back of my mind that all dealt with Harry finally getting answered. I tried to rid my mind of any questions that involved the assassin because I thought that I would never find out the answers to them.

But now I had a chance.

It’s not like Harry would make me do anything horrible at least, so I could follow through with this game of his.

“Deal.” I breathed out, my hands shaking from where they gripped the counter behind me, trying to give myself a grounding object to keep from falling flat on my arse with how weak my limbs felt whenever I was around Harry.

Harry looked like a predator now, waiting me out and slinking back into that relaxed demeanor of his with the sense of an overwhelming focus settled on my person that made me want to run and hide from this man.

I felt like trapped prey now.

“Go on then.” Harry spoke through a low murmur, eyes hooded and silently penetrating his gaze into me and setting my skin on fire beneath it.

“W-Where were you last night?” I wanted to know where the Gryffindor was just to calm my racing heart and the ache in my chest at the unknown thought of Harry having been with someone while I was alone in our guestrooms waiting for him.

Harry let out a low hum, taunting and causing my gut to rocket with heat, the intimidation Harry eluded shocking and arousing all at once as he stared me down with the dewey green of his eyes. “Weasley had a run in with some trouble on one of his missions last night and needed my help, so I left the club for a few hours. I had Sirius watch over you last night and this morning.”

The simple fact that Harry wasn’t going around in the club fucking someone else while I was in the same vicinity made the hollow void in my stomach ease up with its dreaded sensation, my body sagging against the counter as I gripped tighter onto the edge with a white knuckled grip to keep myself steady.

_Thank fuck._

And Harry’s answer made sense. The Gryffindor had to go and help one of his best friends and Sirius was almost as powerful as Harry in the magic department so the assassin could trust his godfather to keep me safe.

Harry spoke up, his words ordered and blunt. “Take. Off. The. Scarf.”

Yeah. We had a deal. Right.

Pouting, I let my bottom lip poke out in a show of defiance as I unwrapped the soft scarf from around my neck, slow and deliberate as a wince of discomfort and mortification played across the frown marking my lips, the cool air brushing against the hot bruise that seemed to thrum from being watched by the Chosen One.

I avoided Harry’s eyes with my own as I watched with avid interest how my feet shuffled about with nerves, the pulse of my heart pounding within the hot of my ears.

I don’t know why I was so ashamed of my bruise in front of Harry. It’s not like I did anything wrong and it wasn’t like Harry was going to punish me for getting myself hurt without my knowledge of how.

“My godfather seems to take pleasure in riling me up. Sirius put that mark on you to make me mad, I can trace the residue of his magic over the bruise.” Harry mumbled out his words into the quiet of the room, a sound of nonplussed amusement shaded in his voice.

Lifting my eyes up off of my feet, I looked at Harry cautiously, my eyes narrowing the slightest. “Is it because I’m not to get hurt on the job?” My words came out irritated and a tad pinch of reluctance flooding into my tone as well.

Harry’s eyes were trained solely on my mark, the harsh light of his eyes darkening further as he replied to my question. “Yes. That was another question you asked. Now I want you to grab some food, put it on one of the plates I got down for you and eat.”

Pressing my lips together, I decided to ignore the sharp pain sluicing into my stomach at Harry’s answer. The Gryffindor said his answer with a quick quip, as if he didn't want to talk about the reason for my bruise.

He said that Sirius just gave me a mark to make Harry mad at having his job bruised up. I wasn't going to dwell much on it even though later, I probably would. 

I let my hands drag away from my grip on the counter to pick up a plate, walk over to the stove and take a few pieces of sausages, scrambled eggs and a biscuit, placing the plate on the kitchen island.

I stabbed my fork into my sausage, standing up and watching Harry from beneath my lashes as I pressed the tip of the meat against the flat of my tongue, my eyes fluttering shut at the taste of the spicy food exploding over the open of my mouth before letting my teeth clamp down over the meat to tug a piece off, chewing and savoring the flavor.

I couldn’t help but let out a contemplative moan at the taste of the sausage.

Caetia did great at cooking. I wonder why Sirius and him left when I was changing?

Opening my eyes, I let out a heavy gasp when I found Harry leaning over the kitchen island, his left elbow lying across the surface while his right was propped up to let the tight furl of his fist cater to the press of his strong chin lying over it, the mess of his pitch black hair falling over his eyes and revealing bits and pieces of the red and green shimmer of his unrelenting gaze.

I almost choked on my sausage at the sudden proximity of Harry across the island.

Blinking, I let out a shaky exhale. “U-uhm … why did you and Ginny break up?” My voice came out rough and nervous as I watched Harry raise the dark of his eyebrows up before he shrugged nonchalantly.

“We broke up because we both concluded that we were better off friends given the fact that I didn’t feel any sexual attraction towards her. Sex with Ginny seemed like fucking a friend that I’ve known since I was a little kid. Didn’t feel right. I should have stopped being with Ginny when I noticed I didn’t feel anything romantic towards her but back then, I cared what people thought about me as the Chosen One and everyone wanted Ginny and I to be together so much that I was wary of breaking things off. And of course Ginny was pissed off at me for my feelings but she dealt with it and she was the one that ended our platonic relationship. Now she’s with Dean and she hates my guts.” Harry’s spoke his words as if he had recited his lines to an audience, formal and emotionless.

I took another bite out of my sausage, prickling the end of my fork continuously against the edge of my plate as I nodded at Harry’s explanation. I could get where Harry was coming from, with the impending worry about what the wizard world would think if someone they looked up to or put in high regards didn’t get what they wanted from them. Harry being with Ginny was a big deal, and I guess Harry didn’t want to disappoint those who wanted the two together. That was similar to how I tried to do as my father told me to so I wouldn’t disappoint him since Lucius thought of me as someone who was far above others.

Harry leaned forward, eyes boring into my own as he tapped the tip of his index finger against the dip of his bottom lip, jaw flexing and striking in the glow of the light above us. “Eat some of the eggs.” The Gryffindor’s voice was laced with demand, deep and unwavering.

The spoken order made me quake from where I stood, heat running through my limbs and making my breath quicken.

_You like following Harry’s orders._

I did as I was told, taking small bites out of my scrambled eggs, Harry’s eyes following the curve of my moving, wet lips with an expression I couldn’t comprehend.

Yep.

I had to ask another question.

“So why do you work as an assassin?” I spoke through my mouthful of eggs, enjoying the food and the rare, civil conversation I was having with Harry for once in our lives even though I felt like my skin was being ripped off of my body to let the Gryffindor in front of me peer into my very soul.

My gaze settled over to the way Harry took the right hand of his off from beneath his chin to run the long, strong lengths of his fingers through the tufts of his unruly strands, messing up the Stygian locks and causing the smooth sheen to reflect the fluorescent light’s rays, the wafting, heady scent of his body coveting me whole.

I took in the way Harry’s forearms tightened with his lean muscles, veins protruding a little against the strain of his movement as those breathtaking eyes found mine again. “That’s a story for another time, it’s rather long and not something I like talking about, Kitten.” The voice that Harry conjured up was null and void, the way his mouth thinned out into a non expression of emotion causing my stomach to churn with anxiety and concern, seeing the man before me start to close up the walls he’s so intricately built back up around him.

I wouldn’t push Harry on the subject if he didn’t want to talk about it. Of course I’m curious to know how the Golden Boy turned out to be an assassin, but the way the Gryffindor seemed to fall into himself and shut out anyone else made me try to change the subject quickly so I could get Harry back into the _now_ with me instead of the thoughts that surely were flooding his closed off brain from the mere mention of explaining how he came out to have this sort of job.

“How about telling me if you are interested in guys … u-uhm , sexually, of course?” I grew hot at the splurge of word vomit escaping my mouth in an attempt to take Harry’s mind off of whatever sordid thought processes were going on in the secretive caverns of his head right now.

I didn’t mean to ask _that_ sort of question.

But of course, Harry had to make my embarrassment worse. The assassin’s mouth tilted up into a salacious grin, leisure and dipped in mockery. “I am. I find myself leaning towards guys more with the way their arseholes squeeze much _much_ tighter around my plundering cock when I fuck them. And there’s something about making a boy cry out in honey slicked moans that make me want to pry it out of them some more-”

I waved my hands in front of my face, feeling heat broil my cheeks as I dropped my fork in my fit of panic and heard it clatter to the floor with my eyes large and ashamed as I felt the heat of my cock thrum with blood at the pure _filth_ escaping Harry’s upturned mouth.

“Enough, enough. That’s more than an an-answer.” My tone was pitched high and shrill.

So Harry definitely likes guys.

_But he’ll never like you._

“Pick up the fork you dropped on the floor, Malfoy.” Harry spoke to me through my little freak out session, voice low and monotonous now.

Harry was so fucking bipolar!

Spluttering from where I stood, I did as Harry told me to without any word of protest, body automatically doing was I was ordered to with a heady rush filling my head at the thought of obeying Harry’s demand, warmth forming into a large ball in the center of my chest.

At least Harry’s mind was off of whatever morbid thoughts he conjured up when I asked him about his reason for becoming an assassin. His mind was with me now, and that made me flood with a giddy happiness that I would never say out loud.

Huffing out in dismay, I found my fork hiding beneath the kitchen sink, causing me to sink low to my knees with a snicker of annoyance as I went to put my hands on the ground and bend to push my hand beneath the tiny slip between the floor and the sinks cabinets, attempting to grasp the fallen fork.

I let out a small sound of distress at having to bring my hand into such a dirty area. 

I don’t care how clean the floor looks, it’s still a ground that people walk on and leaves traces of filth the human eye can’t see. I could be sitting on germs right now.

Harry probably knew about my need for cleanliness and wanted to make me suffer through getting myself dirty.

Of course my need to obey whatever Harry said overrode my need to be clean though.

_You're ridiculous!_

“Here’s another question. Why are you so mean t-to me sometimes!” I breathed out rapidly, the fucking fork fumbling about in my prying fingers as I finally grabbed a hold of it. An exhalation of relief poured out of my mouth as I knelt back up with the fork in my hand, clutched tight.

Turning on my bent knees, I brought the fork up to show it to Harry in case he thought I was bluffing about having grabbed my fork, but stopped the words of self pride from coming out of my mouth when I had craned my neck up and stared up at the assassin from beneath my lashes.

Harry stared down at me, a smoky film crossing over the green and red hue of his eyes. His head tilted down to watch me on my knees for him with that same staggering calm that crossed his features and left me light headed at the way his presence pressured down onto my frame and around my rising goose flesh.

I gaped up at him.

“Take a guess, _Princess_.” Harry’s voice was low and smooth, a sinister drawl that skated down my spine.

I suddenly found my position rather  _inappropriate,_  my cock rising up in interest. And the way Harry said my nickname made me flush deeper, as if teasing me about my high status and how I was on my knees for someone when a person of royalty shouldn't be. 

I was anything  _but_ a princess right now.

I also had no guess as to why Harry was mean to me constantly. 

_Arrogant, selfish, Gryffindork! Urgh!_

Scrambling up onto my feet, legs jello like, I placed the fork down on the counter and spoke up with a hysteria laced in my rushed words. “Guess I win the game! You didn’t answer my question. So, I’ll-uh … I’m gonna go watch some muggle TV. The Discovery Channel’s got great shots of animal habitats that I love, so yeah, I-I-I-”

My words failed to finish my statement. I was making sure to keep my gaze stuck to my plate of food and not over to Harry’s direction, flustered and mortified at the heady sensation of _want_ cramming itself into me all of the sudden.

_Harry doesn’t need to see your boner, Draco!_

“Alright then. I’m going to go visit some friends in the club, so behave and _don’t_ step foot out of this guestroom.” Harry’s response made me whip my head towards him in time to see his back turn to me, the tall of his frame seeming to fill the room as he started towards the living area.

Wait.

Harry expects me to stay here while he went out and had fun?

No.

No way.

“And if I don’t follow your o-orders?!” I called out to him, my breath fast and my hands subtly trying to cover up the arousal profound beneath my pants, watching the shifting muscles in Harry’s back strain against the loose fitted form of his shirt.

Harry scoffed as he exited the room. “I’d like to see you try.” His voice came out low and taunting, tone settling deep into my bones and nestling there with a heavy focus.

Yeah.

I’ll try.

Let’s see if I’ll get caught.

I’m not a Slytherin for nothing. Sneaking is the epitome of what a Slytherin was, and I did great at it.

_You’re going to get in trouble._

I swatted away at my own thoughts, my eyes turning into determined slits as I watched Harry’s retreating figure.

If Harry can go out and have fun, than I could too. As long as I don’t get caught, the assassin would never know.

Exicitment, nerves and adrenaline rushed through me at my plan for the night.

Maybe I'll even ask Caetia to teach me some dance moves just to spite Harry and his orders for me to stay docile in my room.

_Don't get ahead of yourself. You can't dance for the life of you._

Pouting, I let out a puff of air from my mouth as a thought popped up into my head. 

I could ask Sirius to distract Harry so I could get out of my room without the assassin's knowledge. Sirius owed me that much for using me to get Harry mad. 

Oh, this was going to be  _fun._

 


	6. Umber: An Advent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I loved writing this chapter! I don't want to give much away with my constant jabbering mouth. So here it is and I hope you enjoy. The next update will be in two weeks, the same time V:ASA will be updated. So you guys will be getting two in one, whoo!
> 
> Please leave any questions and comments you have. I love getting them. Thank you for all your guys' continuous support!
> 
> Go on and read to thy heart's content, lovelies! Remember to check out my tumblr: reimcai for special updates and sneak peeks as well as a look into how I envision my work.

I tapped the tip of my bare foot against the shimmering marble beneath me, the purse of my lips formed into an indifferent pout as impatience and anxiety flooded the whole of my system, a small tick in the line of my jaw visible in my reflection staring back at me.

My arms were folded over my chest in a petulant manner, my lips curved into a straight line of broiling irritation and nerves as I let out a huff of air every other passing second, my eyes wandering away from my messy, nap addled expression to the entrance of my bathroom, waiting for anyone to come and help me escape this godforsaken room.

I was so fucking bored.

And Harry hadn’t come back in over four hours.

I was left alone to my own devices which didn’t consist much other than the large Muggle TV and the kitchen stocked with food that I haven’t yet touched given the simple fact that I was too bloody lazy to do anything, much less move my hands to make a meal.

After watching the Discovery Channel for two hours straight when Harry had left me to go mingle with the folks in the club, I decided to take a nap that lasted about another two hours. And now that I was awake and my usual grumpy self, my annoyance at having being kept in my room reaching tremendous levels, my skin felt as if it was itching with a sort of hyperactive awareness of my deep _want_ to check out the BDSM level below me.

I needed to get the hell out here and give myself something to do.

_You need to go downstairs and check out the Chamber._

_Show Harry you’re not that easily tamed._

_Make him mad._

_Get punished._

I felt the pale of my cheeks start to fill with a rush of shamed warmth, mortified at the thoughts that bombarded my mind at the mere idea of Harry getting visibly angry and losing his eerily calm and tethered demeanor by my disobedience. The simple notion that I could be the person to make the Golden Boy, who never seemed to lose his cool composure, get angry and show some sort of emotion other than a void, made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and my flesh break out in heated goosebumps.

_You’re going to get in trouble._

Gritting my teeth together, I let my mouth shut tight in a fit of apprehension at my own audacity.

_Harry doesn’t want you the way you want him._

_Give up._

_Stop trying to get his attention._

_Whore._

“Am I interrupting something? You look rather busy wandering around in your own thoughts, Draco.” The familiar sound of Sirius' raspy, deep voice sounded from beside me, the tone sudden and coming into the silent inner struggle of my own mind. I had slightly jerked on the spot from where I stood, glowering at my own reflection.

Bringing my startled pale gaze over to the towering form of my cousin's standing in the entrance of my bathroom, I let the narrow of my eyes turn into harsh slits as I tried to gesticulate how annoyed I was at almost everything, especially the unwanted abrupt scare I just got. Sirius had on the same clothes from this morning, but his mussed hair was even more messy than before. “Next time please knock? I’d appreciate that a lot, thank you. And where were you this morning? I came out to eat breakfast to find that both you and Caetia weren’t even there.”

Sirius raised his dark brows, his expression turning that of mirthful mischievousness that made the stretch of his lips wide, the black of his eyes gleamed with devilish joy as the man let out a resounding amused chuckle that echoed throughout the entirety of the bathroom. “Caetia wouldn’t stop bending over in the kitchen so I had to quickly get us on our of here and into another guest room so I could fuck him. On our way out of this guest room, Harry came across us and told us to take a good few hours of a break from babysitting you, so we left. Sorry about that.”

Sirius didn’t sound at all like he was sorry.

I jutted out the bottom of my lip in a droll like action, already jumping at the opportunity to make Sirius help me get out of this weird imprisonment.  “Don’t apologize when you don’t mean it, Sirius. It’s unbecoming of a person. Now I’ll forgive you and Caetia’s lack of company this morning if you do me a favor tonight.” My words came out rushed and heavy with saccharine sweetness, my lips giving away the tiniest amount of a sly smile that I could tell Sirius caught by the way his dark gaze followed the slow appraisal of my mouth.

My cousin’s eyebrows shot far up on his forehead, his mouth seeming to twitch on the sides to reveal a somewhat measure of a grimace and a dirty grin that he seemed to be wanting to hold back. “Now, pray tell, what is this ‘favor’ that you have in mind? And what makes you think that I’m going to go through with this proposition you’ve got going on?” Sirius’ voice was etched in a leisure like interest, pitch black eyes watching me with heavy hawk like precision.

I let my arms disentangle themselves from around my chest, my head tilting down to hide the giddy smile that about threatened to take the whole of my face from the bubbling adrenaline and fearful tinged sensation running amok within the contours of my body.

_You’re bonkers._

_This is a bad fucking idea._

I wasn’t a Slytherin for nothing.

I loved me some thrill and trouble.

“Because you owe me a favor since you left me all by my lonesome self with Potter in that kitchen this morning. And what I want from you is quite simple. I want you to let me walk out of this room to let me take a look around at what’s in the club. I also want your word that if Harry comes in before I get back, you won’t tell him where I am and act like you saw me asleep in my bed, make sure that he won’t find out that I’m out and about. Yeah?” My voice seemed to grow higher with each word that uttered out of the quick work of my mouth, as if rushing my sentences would make Sirius dizzy with information overload and cause him to agree without full knowledge and acceptance of what he just assented himself to for me.

Sirius’s tiny smirk fell from his rugged features to showcase a look of dawning horror and surprise, a sense of perplexion encasing the whole of his face. “No. Let me tell you something, Draco. My godson will have my _head_ if he figured out you were out in the club, especially by _yourself_ and if I was the one that helped you to achieve that goal. I-”

I let out a sound of frustration, cutting off my cousin’s rant. Letting my hands open and close beside my thighs to form tight clenches of my fists in an attempt to ward off the need to stomp my feet in aggravation and anger, that same burning itch coiled tight in the hollow of my stomach. It grew with every millisecond that I wasn’t out of this guestroom and down in the Chamber where I wanted to be.

“Sirius, I _need_ to get out of this room or else I’ll go out of my mind! Harry is being completely unfair and cruel by making me stay in a confined space while he goes out and has his own fun. I haven’t been able to do anything but watch Muggle television and snack on sweets. Help me out this one time.” I let the clear distress that I felt sear the insides of my gut sound out from my pinched features that displayed my distress, trying to make Sirius understand how utterly bored I was in this place.

I wasn’t going to tell my cousin that the whole purpose of my wanting to get out this guestroom was to go downstairs and watch people indulge in their sexual needs with a more rougher play and to satisfy my own fascination of a harsher form of sex.

Nope.

I was _not_ going to explain my weird fetish to my cousin for fucks sake.

Sirius stared at me with his mouth in a line of perpetual discomfort, the first time I’ve ever seen him show such an open, conflicted expression since I’ve met him. There was a long stretch of silence that passed between the two of us, my heart beating harder than usual at the rousing emotions of fright and dark excitement at what could happen if I was caught by Harry and how much _fun_ it would be to actually check out the Chamber.

Sirius let out a sigh then, long and drawn out with the crease in his brow soothing into a transfixed composure as he eyed me with the press of his lips together in a consternation display. He raised his pointer finger to direct it towards my figure in an accusation like gesture. “You’re lucky that I could sympathize with you on having to stay in a place where you don’t want to be, given my whole experience of being trapped in a forest for a good three or so months. I’ll help you. But be aware that Harry is going to be out in the club when you leave as well, so be extra bloody careful to not be caught. Also, don’t get yourself killed, I rather like you alive since you’re all I’ve got family wise and since I don’t want to be murdered by Harry if you do end up dead. Got it?”

A jabbing fixture of energy played across the expanse of my skin, the drumming of my heartbeat ricocheting off of the inner cage of my ribs at the reluctant compliance of Sirius’.

_Fuck yes._

I couldn’t stop the manic smile from curving up on the sides of my lips, my chest vibrating with the breaths increasing in their rhythm in my lungs at the fact that I was going to get out of this boring, yet gorgeous, guest room so I could sneak into the Chamber and have a miniature freak out session on my once in a lifetime indulgence for my certain kinks.

_Just don’t get caught by Harry._

It felt like I was getting myself into a game of predator and prey. I just had to be the sneaky little snake that I was born to be as and escape the intimidating and overwhelming lion that would seek me out if I was to be found. Harry was the hunter. I was his unknown target.

And I hoped to be kept as the “unknown” target throughout this endeavor of mine.

_Or perhaps you want to be caught._

_Get Harry’s attention._

_Be put under his anger._

I mentally shook my head back and forth vigorously to ward away my discombobulated thoughts.

I needed to focus on the excitement of seeing the Chamber instead, of seeing some BDSM action.

_Hell yes._

Gah, I’m so indecent.

If mother knew about my weird infatuation with a harsher play of sex, I would have been carted off to the nearest religious affiliated wizard school so I could be washed off of my filthy fantasies with the teachings of proper and normalized affiliations. Mother would have had her pristine face turn purple if she knew her only child and son was gay and got off on the thought of being fucked until I bled.

“Got it. Thanks so so much-” This time, Sirius interrupted my words.

“Don’t thank me yet. You need to get changed into the proper clothing for the club so you won’t stand out like a sore thumb in the crowd. Caetia is actually in the living room and he’s got clothes in his dressing room upstairs that you could use, although we may have to use some magic to make the material smaller with more room around your buttocks area since you’ve got curves and a tighter, more petite body than Caetia.”

My lips were parted now, the opening of my mouth agape in a notion of apprehension and shock.

When Sirius spoke his words, his voice came out stern and dipped in a undertone of a demand, causing my body to want to recoil from my cousin’s space in a way to distance myself subconsciously away from him in regards to hoping that I could perhaps try to run from the room now and not be forced to change into clothes that I was sure I could not work.

Caetia is a stripper.

The boy has exposing clothes that I do not have enough confidence to wear. My mother ingrained it into my head that people who wore clothes that shown too much skin were just a bunch of sluts and of course I don’t think that about people who do go around wearing those kinds of fabrics but there was this unusual fear of going against my mother’s words and becoming a horrible, despicable person for it.

I’ve always tried to do as my parents told me to.

It seems that I still try to even when both my mother and father were dead.

I hated that about myself.

And the knowledge that my figure was more curvaceous than a man’s regular body build should be, made me more insecure than most.

Fuck. Me.

Sirius must have seen the look of alarm crossing over the width of my face because the man had taken a cautious step forward, deliberate and slow approaching as his eyebrows nosedived in genuine concern. “Look. I know Narcissa was a controlling bitch when she was alive so I’m sure you’re probably having a panic attack over having to wear something your mother had specifically taught you to never put on your body, but you are over twenty years old and Narcissa is not alive to give you a verbal smack down. Besides, you’ll look good in anything like Caetia and you’ll blend in more with the crowd so Harry doesn’t catch you. Your hair can’t be helped though, what with that silver, pale white color you’ve got going on, so you’ll need to hide behind a lot of people.”

I gave Sirius a furrow of my own brows, taken aback by how worried Sirius was about my sudden obvious anxiety over doing something I was conditioned not to do throughout my whole life.

_Have some fun for once._

I’ll most likely end up finding something, perhaps a leather jacket, to cover myself up more a little. But there was a surety about wearing Caetia's clothes to keep me mixed in with the crowd and not stick out too much.

I wanted to see the Chamber.

I wanted to do something that brings me joy.

And if sneaking out in revealing clothes is what I had to do to go have some semblance of an entertaining time, then I’d do it.

Fearfully.

But I’d do it.

_Oh gods._

Before I could cause anymore panic from my own turmoil of self pitying and deprecation, I blurted out my response to Sirius’ words, fast and breathy. “Fine. That’s fine. Now can we please get me out of this room in the next hour before I go out of my ever loving mind?”

I did my best to settle my features back into my signature look of a prissy Malfoy so I didn’t have to show anymore of my emotions out in the open in front of Sirius.

Keeping my composure was something I’ve been accustomed to and surely would not let go of.

Sirius, thank gods, didn’t comment on my demonstration of vulnerability just a few minutes ago and instead, gave a sharp nod before turning around and angling his head in my direction to signal my person to follow him. “Let’s tell Caetia what’s happening, let him get the clothes, and let you have some fun.”

I silently thanked Sirius for his agreement to my plan.

It seemed I was going to finally get out of this room.

Hopefully no trouble happens.

_You better get on your knees and pray to whatever deity that nothing does happen because it seems that you always attract trouble._

 

 

* * *

 

This was a horrible idea.

My stricken eyes glanced down at my apparel, the nerves filtering through my veins hot and heavy causing my fingers to tremble as I let my hands graze the material barely covering the whole of my body.

_Ohfuckohfuckohfuck._

I felt Caetia’s own fingers come up to tap me lightly on the bare skin of my arm, eliciting my wide eyes to snap up and meet Caetia’s fire etched eyes that were narrowed slightly in a look of exasperated yet complacent irritation. “Stop fiddling with your clothes. You look amazing, trust me. Now get out of here before all my hard work on trying to get these clothes to fit you perfectly goes to waste.” The boy’s voice was soft and tinged with a chastising fondness that made me feel floored and erratically thankful.

_You can do this._

Sucking the bottom of my lip into the moist caverns of my mouth, I couldn’t help the bad habit of mine to chew fixedly on the flesh with an insistent manner, nibbling and causing the skin of my lip to tear and bruise faster than normal.

I trailed my eyes down over my figure again.

The leather, black pants I wore were so fucking form fitting that it felt like I wore nothing given the simple fact that the material was quiet thin, stretching taught around the flex of my long legs and plump arse. It felt like they were painted onto my skin. When I first put on tht clothes, I felt a light breeze sweep across the flesh where my arse met my thighs. I ended up angling my head down and sideways to catch sight of the fabric ripped right below the swell of my bums cheeks to display my pale flesh out to the open.

I had turned so red that Sirius had started to cackle like a bumbling witch and made cooing sounds towards me just to make me turn even more crimson.

I figured out soon why Caetia wanted me to wear a blood red laced thong that he had bought a couple days ago and hadn’t worn yet. If I had worn anything else other than a small scrap of panties, than the tight pants would have shown my underwear and that would have made me look more ridiculous than I already felt. It took about ten minutes for Caetia to convince me to put the underwear on though.

But surprisingly, and embarrassingly so, I liked the feel of the panties, soft and silky to the touch.

I was never going to admit to liking the feel of the lingerie though.

The cool air caressing the whole of my back made me want to hunch over in on myself or attempt to cover the expanse of my exposed spine. The top I was forced to put on was made up of the darkest shade of blue, the sheer navy hue shadowed like the early mournings of midnight. The top was backless except for a few thin strings that crisscrossed over one another at the bottom dip of my spine, the sleeves were made up of the same stringy material. The shirt was created out of silk that gleamed whenever the fluorescent lighting touched the material. The top exposed the flat of my navel and the skin just above my belly button, the bottom hem curving into a rather elegant upside down V that had its edges touch the curves of my sides.

The shirt covered up my mark so I didn't have to worry about anyone catching sight of the emblem etched into my flesh. 

Caetia given me a pair of his dark blue high heels, the toes open and the heel thin as the material wrapped once around my ankle, the color matching my top.

Once again, Sirius had laughed like a baboon when he saw my balance struggle on the heels I was given. It was my first time wearing such things and I was seconds away from seething expletives towards my cousin if not for Caetia snapping at his boyfriend to keep his mouth shut on my behalf.

I liked Caetia for that. Even if he was making me wear these clothes.

Now with my hair down and falling into its messy, silvered strands that brushed my shoulders, I stood directly in front of the door to the foyer that connected to the living, mine, and Harry’s guestrooms.

I was sort of having a mental breakdown, a small, rare one.

And Caetia was trying to calm me down enough to encourage my arse to get on the hell out of here and have some fun.

“Why must I wear heels? At least let me put on my boots-” Caetia furrowed his brows down at my words, causing me to put a halt in my protests.

“You look amazing. Seriously, I feel like I need to go out there with you just to ward off everyone from coming at you. You’re very pretty and you’ve got a banger body.” I felt my neck grow warm at Caetia’s words, not used to hearing such compliments from anyone ever.

Sirius, who had been standing beside Caetia silently for a good five minutes, finally spoke up, his words low and somewhat thunderous as those black eyes of his trailed down the slope of my figure, lips pulling up into a snarl that caught me off guard. “If anyone so much as touches you without your permission, you come straight back to this room and tell me who it was. I will not have my cousin molested and Harry will be able to tell if anyone touched you so be extra fucking careful or else you and I will both be killed by the hands of the Chosen One.”

Holy hell.

I stared back at my cousin with a raised brow. “Harry wouldn’t be _that_ angry I’m sure. I am a _job_ to him anyways, that’s all. It’s not his profession to make sure I don’t get fucked. He’d just be mad if I got physically hurt and would be unable to help with the whole mission process. So-”

Sirius let out a deprecating chuckle, his eyes low lidded as he shook his head back and forth in a slow cadence, the ugly curl of his lips turning into a wince. “Most of the time you are incredibly smart that it’s rather vexing to be around you, Draco. But this one time, I want you to not follow your own head and to promise me to not get involved with someone outside of this room. I really don’t want to deal with an angry godson, especially the one and only Harry Potter.”

It’s not like Harry would care if I was fucked by anyone.

_Harry doesn’t like you the way you do. There’s no reason for him to get mad if anyone touched you sexually._

I didn’t protest against Sirius’ words this time, my mouth busy with my incessant chewing on my bottom lip as I stayed astonishingly silent since I had nothing much to say to my cousin’s warning that wouldn’t make him chastise me some more.

Caetia, for once, let a smirk play across his gorgeous feature then, the flecks of his molten eyes shimmering with an unknown mischief that I couldn’t quite understand, as if he knew something I didn’t or just came up with a diabolical plan. It looked odd on the rather elfen like features of the boy. “Actually. If you want to go have some fun with a guy, go for it. You only live once right and I’m sure you’ll be fine. This club is very exclusive and won’t have anyone coming in that would bring potential harm to you.”

Sirius whipped his head down towards his boyfriend, his eyebrows rising high and the the black of his eyes searching Caetia’s. He looked as if he was about to protest but Caetia prevented his boyfriend’s words with his own. “Let it happen, babe. I think it’s a _great_ idea.” Caetia’s voice was heavy with joy, tone leveled and calm.

Why did it feel like Caetia and Sirius were talking to one another when Caetia was the one visibly talking to me? I’m so confused.

Whatever.

I need to go out. I need to see the Chamber.

Even in this outfit.

Sirius’s eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite pinpoint, his dark gaze coming back to my own with a mirthful smile this time. “Ah, why don’t you just do what you want. Go have fun, seems like you need it. But if anyone tries to kill you, know that I will be there to help as well as Harry.”

Well, I mean … the fact that I’ve got people to protect me felt nice, but it didn’t make matters easier with the thought that wizards were coming after me to murder my arse.

_Harry said this place was safe._

_You’ll be fine._

Giving the both of the men before me a rigid nod, I ushered them with my sweeping hands to get out of my way so I could open the damn door and step out.

Right as I turned the knob and took a step forward out into the long hallway, I heard Caetia speak up behind me. “Say yes to drugs and yes to strangers!”

Was this reverse psychology or something that Caetia was using on me? I already knew that I wouldn’t be going anywhere near drugs or people for that matter.

Sirius’s boyfriend was weird.

It felt like they both now wanted me to get into some trouble, but not to the point where I’d end up being left in a ditch somewhere.

With a snicker, I waved my hand to both my cousin and his boyfriend before shutting the door behind me, sucking in a sharp breath to try and calm the racing of my anxious heart.

Why did it feel like I needed to make a cross over my chest like I was some catholic specimen that needed protection from a deity that may or may not be real? I did it anyways.

And felt like a complete idiot doing so.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The club was packed, bodies swaying from side to side to the soft hum of the music as members writhed against one another in a series of shortened, moist breathy moans or groans that seemed to filter throughout my bones in a rattling heat.

The balls of fires that hovered above the crowds heads were lit up more, flames flickering high into the endless ceiling over my head and creating bursts of brightness across the pristine, marble floors and Stygian walls.

I had to admit.

Viktor Krum did well in decorating his club.

Walking in heels was hard, every other second or so my knees would buckle if I tilted my feet to the sides in an awkward angle in my fast pace of a walk through the bundle of people gyrating and fucking each other across the expanse of the floor. The distinct smell of musk and sweat mingled in through my senses and caused my heart to hammer wildly beneath my chest at the fact that I was in a room where sex was the main purpose of it.

I felt multiples pairs of eyes on my figure, following my rushed movements as I did my best to ignore the stares of others in the large of the room.

I didn't get the chance to grab a coat to cover myself up, which made me turn red from being watched by a large amount of both muggles and wizards. 

It seems that the outfit didn't do much help in making me blend in with the crowd if I was being observed to openly and quickly.

I kept ducking my head, peering my eyes up through the strands of my unruly hair to check if there was the familiar tall, lean and muscled figure of Harry’s mingling about on this floor, a sense of unease, worry and adrenaline burning itself into my limbs at the thought of running into the Gryffindor.

Whenever the passing thought of seeing Harry _fucking_ someone came across my mind, I had to squash down the ache that shuddered in my gut nauseatingly and push through my plan.

Harry said he was meeting up with friends. The assassin didn’t say anything about going out to find someone to shove his prick into.

Grimacing slightly, I did a quick walk towards the right set of staircases that led down into the Chamber, my throat constricting in on itself as I practically barreled through the large of the main club floor to jog down the set of dark staircases that would lead me into the promised land of BDSM.

_Ohgosohgodsohgods!_

I had to grab onto the staircase handles on the sides so I wouldn’t trip and fall flat on my arse or break multiple limbs in my haste to get down into the Chamber.

Reaching the end of the staircase, I was presented with a small, enclosed space that shown a red trimmed door covered with licorice wooden paneling opposite from where I stood. A glass counter was settled to my right where two people stood behind. One of the people was a man who was decked out in a large black suite that covered his massive muscled frame, his torso seeming to bulge and want to escape the confines of his clothes as the cerulean hue of his eyes narrowed in on my person with a suspicious air surrounding him, his dirty blonde hair in the style of a military cut. The other person standing beside him was a female that wore peach colored lingerie material, the round of her nipples peeking through the sheer intricately designed bra and the panties in a form of a G-string. She was tall with a voluptuous amount of hazelnut brown hair, pin straight and shining as it reached the small of her waist.

They were both good looking.

And the two people were staring at me with cautious glares that made me want to snap at them for their rudeness.

But I had to behave if I wanted to convince these two to let me in since I figured that the man and woman were my ticket to getting into the closed door and into the BDSM community room.

The man spoke up, voice surprisingly soft but deep etched as those green blue of his eyes slowly trekked down the length of my body, making me feel like I was a bug under a microscope. “Haven’t seen you around here, Malfoy. What’s a cute little bunny like you doing in the entrance to the Chamber?”

Ah. So the man knows me.

He’s not a muggle then.

I resisted the urge to snark at the man about having called me a ‘little bunny’.

Why does everyone I come across give me nicknames? Specifically animal or food related?

I didn’t want to know.

“I just want to check out what the Chamber is like, out of pure curiosity. This club allows members to freely do as they like as long as no one gets hurt without their consent, right?” I let my voice stray towards a more professional, formal bored drawl, trying to cover up the hyper nerves playing within the whole of my body as I stood stalk still.

The woman flicked the mass of her beautiful hair behind her back and watched me beneath the perfect arch of her mascara dipped long eyelashes, critically eyeing me. The glare of her burnt orange tinged eyes elicited the need to cover myself up from the evident judgment she exuded towards my person. “I don’t think you’re pretty enough-”

The man cut her off, his tone sharp and crisp, rumbling with an annoyed jilt that made the fascinating mixture of sea green and crystalline blue of his eyes conjure up a stormy inflection. “Ignore Yevsky here, she’s just jealous that Draco Malfoy has an lovelier figure and arse than she does. Krum makes it a rule here, in any part of this club, that we treat our customers with no judgement and with complete compliance. So I apologize on her behalf. It’s not everyday we get to see a Malfoy entering a BDSM room.”

I stared back at the man, reigning in my shock at his open apology. I was definitely used to every wizard that I came across being rather mean but I could understand that given how my past was. But it’s not everyday that someone in the wizarding world actually treated me like a human being instead of a fucking parasitic disease.

If Krum was here, I would actually give him a small praise for the set of moral codes he created in his club.

I appreciated it.

I’m sure others did too.

Deciding to ignore Yevsky and focus all my attention on this cooperative man, I tilted my head and spoke with a voice that was quiet and set into a calm murmur. “Can I enter? I’d like to see the Chamber.”

The man’s eyes shimmered then, a sly look passing over his handsome features as he let the curve of his lips tip up into a grin. “Yes you may. Since you’re new, I suggest you put on this white band that goes around your thumb. It shows that you are going into the Chamber to have a look around, that you are not available to be propositioned. If you want to go in there with the intention to ‘play’ then you must wear a silver band, it shows that you are a submissive and are willing to coalesce. I can’t sense if you are a virgin or not since there is no scent coming from your body, so I suggest you tell anyone who is going to come up to you tonight if you are experienced or not. Do you understand?”

My lips parted on an exhale of a breath, body humming with energized warmth and anxiety as I processed the man’s words. There was something that he said that made me raise my brows in my Malfoy haughty manner. “What makes you think I’m a submissive?” Even though I said it without any stutter, I felt my cheeks flush in mortification at my own words.

The man gave me a smile that was large, reminding me of a shark with how wide the stretch if his lips went, eyes gleaming and voice low. “Oh sweetheart. I can tell you’re someone that needs to be put over a knee and spanked until you see red in your eyes and on your body. And I’m sure you now that you are as well. A very pretty submissive bottom you are.”

Was this man _flirting_ with me? Oh dear gods. I needed to get  inside of the Chamber before I had to turn this man down. There was no way that I was going to fall into this man’s hands like putty.

_Only Harry can make you do such a thing._

Pursing my lips, I let out a scoff, reverting my eyes away from the massive man so I could look at the huge door as if it was the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen. “Just give me the white band … and thank you, for letting me in.”

Walking over to the glass counter, Yevsky let out a huff of air as she handed me the white thumb band and flicked her right wrist in the direction towards the door, causing the entrance to open inwards as she murmured beneath her breath towards me. “Gavin was right. I’m jealous. Your arse shouldn’t be that fucking perky. Be careful in there. They’ll eat you alive, little bunny.”

I rolled my eyes towards Yevsky, keeping my gaze away from the man, Gavin, as I quickly walked passed him and into the large room, hearing the doors click shut behind me like a foreboding entrapment.

And then my mind went into wonderland.

The space in front of me had flooring that had a tan brown granite coloring, the mixing colors of mahogany and blood red seeping together to create a warm shade of a polished ground. The furniture was spaced apart, lush burgundy lounge chairs and thick glass tables brought together on certain areas of the floor that each faced the walls lined with BDSM instruments such as chains, whips, floggers, ropes, and other sexual devices that could be used as a means for punishment upon a submissive's body hung from them.

There were also suspension beams and a few St. Andrew’s Crosses.

There were people in the same outfits like the floor above me, except I could tell which one’s were the submissives, dominants and versatiles with the color bands around their thumbs. I caught sight of the chart of the different colors of bands connecting to their specific person on the glass counter where Yevsky stood. White meant observer. Silver meant submissive. Crimson meant dominant and Azure meant versatile.

The place before me had high ceilings and low, floating lanterns, each side of the walls having two sets of separated hallways that I could see doors line up against in rows.

Those were most likely the private rooms.

I stood there, gaping, as sounds of loud moans and luscious screams echoed throughout the whole of the area, bouncing off the pristine granite walls. People, who weren’t in the midst of fucking each other or in the middle of a ‘play’, were walking around bare arse naked or clothed with their partners, some collared and following their owners on their hands and knees or others trailing behind or beside their lover with their heads down or gazes fixated to the front. Many of the submissives that were collared had on cock rings.

Fuck.

A surge of heat fell into the space of my abdomen, harsh and abrupt as tingles spread out over my skin in increments, fire licking at my groin as an inevitable arousal filtered into my system and left me dazed at the sight before me.

Then my vision was obscured when someone tall stepped right in front of me.

Blinking out of my haze of thoughts, my lips parted as I tipped my head back, craning my neck to stare up at a man that was at least in his mid thirties with the slight crinkle at the edges of his astonishingly teal colored eyes, his body fit and lean with broad shoulders and a head of messy dark brown dreadlocks. He had on a charcoal suit with his cuffs undone to reveal the lines of tattoos slithering up and taking up the space of his smooth caramel light brown tinged skin.

Handsome.

_Too bad he didn’t have that wonderful shade of honeyed, bronze flesh that Harry had._

_This man didn’t have jaded, ruby flecked eyes that seared into the very being of your essence and scorched you whole._

“Now I know that people with white bands aren’t interested in partnering, but I have to ask. What’s a poppet like you doing here, observing, when someone should be showing you how _precious_ you are?” The man’s voice was gravel like, soft and husky.

_Not thunderous and deep like Harry’s._

Fuck! I needed to stop comparing everyone with the damn assassin.

And I’m not some “precious” person. I don’t need to be shown softness. I wanted roughness, I wanted to be called a slut and something filthy, but only by someone who I liked and trusted enough to actually allow them to do such degrading things to me.

I was at a loss for words, trying to make my brain process this man’s question and how, for the past ten or so minutes, that I’ve been flirted with by two people now? That’s not normal. This never happens to me.

How was I going to turn this man down easily?

Words were spewing out of my mouth now. “Uh … I’m not interested. I’m sorry. I’m here to look around and-”

The man chuckled, cutting my sentence off as the shimmering shade of his eyes flickered with a lecherous attitude. My eyes caught the sight of his band, the color that of a dominant red. “If you are willing to change your mind, I’d like it very much if you would accompany me sometime whenever you’re free and not just ‘observing’. No need to turn me down so quickly.”

Dammit.

This man was _nice._

And I was being rude.

I needed to work on not being such a bratty person.

But I knew I’d never call or get into contact with the guy in front of me. I could act nice though when I wanted to. “Right. Well, I guess I’ll take that proposition if I ever feel the need to do anything other than observe. Thank _you._ ” The last words escaping my mouth were suddenly pitched high, breaking in its tone with surprise as the dark skinned man stepped forward and had crowded into my space, the easy-going aura he emitted slowly dissipating into that of a ravenous, unwanted, heavy air.

“Hopefully soon. I’d love to see you sucking my cock, pretty _baby_.” The man’s words came out in a slow mumble, the light of his eyes staring me down as I tried not to flinch away from the man’s sudden closeness.

Definitely not interested.

_He’s not Harry._

But I wasn’t going to be rude and end up being kicked out of the Chamber simply by being a mouthy little bitch like I wanted to be and tell the guy that I’d rather lick dirt than get anywhere near him.

I leaned back a little to distance myself from the man’s figure, my mouth forming into a line of perpetual indifference as I kept my tone monotonous without any hint of an expression crossing my unflinching features. My pulse was set into a fast rhythm from having to be so anxious at the situation I found myself in.

I darted out my tongue to quickly swipe the tip of it against the plush of my bottom lip in a way to calm myself down. I noticed the man’s caribbean eyes drag down to my mouth at the action and I silently cursed at myself in embarrassment and anger at making the guy think that I was interested with the way he probably thought I purposefully licked my lips to get his attention.

“Okay. Yeah. Well, I’m going to go look around now so have a nice night-” I yelped out, the sound spewing out of my gaping, wet mouth as I choked on my own words when something soft and warm slipped around the circumference of my slender neck and heard an indefinite _click_ of metal clasp at the back.

My body jerked from the sensation of leather rubbing up against the skin of my throat, the brush of hot fingers ghosting across my flesh as a heady scent of honey and cigar smoke coveted me whole, familiar and dizzying in its smell.

I had a collar on.

A bloody _collar._

I could feel my eyes turn into huge round circles, as if I was a deer caught in headlights. The furnace of heat gathered behind me to caress down the length of my exposed back and spine, making my legs weaken in their stance as well as my breath whoosh out from my lungs as if I was punched in the gut.

_Harry._

Just the scent and the heat radiating off of the Gryffindor’s body behind me, as well as the barely there touch of his long, smooth fingers against my neck, made me _know_ that the person who collared me and stood close behind my frame was Harry.

My breath stilted in my throat then as my Adam’s apple bobbed against the object wrapped and clasped around my neck.

I shivered.

And stared up at the man in front of me who had been standing near me and trying to get into my fucking pants, now back away slowly, his brows nose diving into a look of discomfort as the bright of his eyes stared over my shoulder at whom I presume was Harry.

_You’re going to die._

_You’re in so much trouble._

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!_

“Hey man, I didn’t know he was taken. Your boy came in here with a white band and-” The brown skinned guy had his face pulled into an expression of cringing defeat and stress, lips pressing tight together as the line of his body went stiff with worry.

Harry broke into the man’s words of explanation, his voice deceptively calm and hinting beneath a tremulous threat in the harsh, deep murmur of his tone. “A white band that means he didn’t want to be propositioned nor partnered. Follow the rules. And you’re a wizard, you should sense the magic _I_ left him with to show others that he is to not be messed with by anyone else. Use that dumb brain of yours to decipher the sort of magic I used. Don’t act stupid. Leave and stick your cock into someone who wants it.”

The man didn’t need to be told twice.

He left. Like a bat out of hell.

And I was not turning around to face Harry.

A sense of unadulterated fear lunged into my stomach, rapacious and violent with a searing abhorrent fire that licked up the inner skin of my thighs and every nook and cranny of my jelly like limbs.

What made things more worse was how I saw everyone in the room veer their curious gazes over to where Harry and I stood, eyes observant and dark, some widening with shock at having to see _the_ Harry Potter in a BDSM room, and with Draco Malfoy decked out in interesting clothes for that matter of fact.

“What’s wrong, _Malfoy?_ Why don’t you turn around and look at me.” Harry’s voice sounded right beside the left of my ear, breath warm and tickling the skin there. I let out a breathy, shuttering whine, so quiet that I barely heard it release from the stricken "O" shape of my mouth.

I was set aflame, my cheeks, neck and the insides of my person boiling with fire, when I felt rather than heard Harry’s vibrating, deep voice slink its way up into the space between my thighs and trailed up to my cock, vicious and commanding. “Now.”

Sucking in shaky breath, my heart beating out of tune from the erratically fast pulse it catered to beneath my rib cage, I felt my bottom lip wobble from the nerves flashing like fireworks in my bloodstream as I turned around on my high heel toed shoes and squeaked when the top of my nose brushed against the hard, clothed upper chest of Harry’s tall, lean and muscled figure.

I felt my legs quaking, my lungs working overtime with the way my chest kept heaving up and down with harsh increments of air as I tried to catch my breath. I tried to stagger back, to put space between the Stygian presence Harry was emitting at the moment, but his next words made me stop in my motion to escape, an amused, degrading yet succulent husk that made my entire being quiver. “Look up at me and don’t you dare run, _Brat._ ”

_Bloody, mothering fucking hell._

I was too scared to look Harry in the eyes.

I felt like a Christian child having been caught masturbating in the confessional booth in a church.

So, instead, I shook my head in denial of Harry’s order.

Stupid idea.

“ _Draco_. Do as I say.” The assassin’s voice was hard and wicked, a pure demand that pulled my insides every which way. The sound of my name dipped in the low rasp of Harry’s voice caused my head to be brought up, the collar comfortable but a sensible presence around my throat as I trailed my gaze up the length of Harry’s fitted form and let out a keening, stressed noise as I tipped my head back.

The Gryffindor towered over me.

The emerald film of Harry’s eyes were almost completely taken over by the ruby, blood red hue that mingled together with it, seeming to pulsate as if his gaze was alive itself, intimidating and bearing down on me with a force that left me breathless.

The tousled obsidian strands of Harry’s hair reminded me of looking into a black hole, endless and suffocating.

Dangerous.

And undeniably gorgeous.

I was speaking before my mind could catch up to the words escaping my moving mouth. “I-I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to go out and have some _fun._ Harry, you’re always gone and I’m left alone a-a-and I wanted to see what this place was like. I-I-”

Harry tilted his head down, bringing the hot of his right hand up to reach for the front of my neck, my voice cracking at the dark, sordid and sudden vex that Harry’s eyes shown. My hands instinctively rose up in a panicked thrill as I lightly grappled at the assassin’s wrist when he slipped his fingers and then the whole of his palm up around the width of my throat to just below my chin.

My mouth popped open to release heated air, blinking up at Harry from beneath my lashes as I blushed under his gaze at the heavy contact of his skin against my own, feeling ripped open in front of this man as he squeezed around my throat in time with the beatings of my pulse, temporarily turning my air way off and on as I shook under his grasp, his threat, his dominance.

“You thought you could fool me? Oh _Kitten,_ how cute and utterly pathetic of you.” Harry spoke lowly into my face, the soft strands of his hair brushing across my forehead as he watched the heated and fearful expressions playing across my face as well as the way my fingers twitched and became restless around his wrist.

I was about to speak, but my airway was blocked at the abrupt tightening of Harry’s hand, the emotionless line of his mouth opening as he continued on with his words. “That man wanted you, you know that? Despite the fact that I’ve left my magic on you to ward people off, he went out of his way to try and get just a taste of what is …”

Harry didn’t finish his sentence, instead, I saw his chest make a minute shift as if he was trying to contain himself, to breathe easier and keep his composure. He lightened his grasp around my neck, letting me breathe as the heavy set of his gaze wandered away from my face and over my shoulder to the crowd most likely watching us.

“I suggest you all get back to your own business. No one talks of this. And those who use magic, do yourself a favor and perceive the magic I left on this _observer_ here. I can _feel_ your desire and want, don’t put it on him or you’ll be very sorry.” Harry spoke his words out to the crowd, cold and deceptive, causing the whole of the room to become strained with heavy dread.

Harry … marked me?

Why would he do that?

I didn’t have much time to think about what Harry was saying, because next thing I knew, Harry had moved in on me a blurring motion, releasing my neck swiftly to shove his shoulder into the fluttering of my stomach, causing me to give out a high pitched cry as I felt one of Harry’s warm hands slide up into the ripped slits of my leather pants to wiggle his four fingers into the torn fabric and cup the bare skin of my arse as he let his thumb reach around and press itself with a bruising force into the clothed flesh between of my inner right thigh.

The assassin easily lifted me up over his shoulder with his one hand, the action causing his fingers to slip into the torn fabric further and curve around my arse to settle close to the space between my cheeks, eliciting a shudder to run down my spine and a spasm like wiggle of my lower half to _try_ and stop Harry from touching me even more.

I was going out of my mind, speechless and left with a plumping prick that made my skin flush hotter and my heart go into hysteria as my trembling hand went to grasp at the back of Harry’s shirt to tug on it. “P-Put me down. I’m really s-sorry. I won’t do it again. _Please,_ pleasepleaseplease. What are you going to do? _Harry-”_

Harry dug his fingers into my right arse cheek, so hard that I let out a sharp wheeze as he jostled me around and caused my skin to throb at the _pain_ of the assassin’s cruel grip on me. The prompt flex of Harry’s fingers around my arse caused my words to come to a stop. “You’re so nervous, Kitten. Where is all that sass? You know you did something wrong, hmm? I’ve told you many times to never disobey me, but you just had to didn’t you? Wanted my attention so bad that you went out of your way to make me come for you and make me _angry_. Guess I’ll have to teach you another lesson.” The way Harry spoke with a low, rough grunt made the eerie calm he carried around with him seem to jostle and become ready to part and reveal the vicious, sinister air that I was _sure_ that the assassin was great at hiding and keeping restrained.

I shifted on top of Harry’s shoulder, my breath stuttering and my prick hardening. That one action of mine seemed to cause a reaction out of the Gryffindor, because without further warning, we were apparating, a sense of nausea hitting me for the briefest moments before disappearing just as quick.

Then I was being lifted up and off Harry’s shoulders to be slammed into a wall, the air currently forced out of my lungs at the harsh impact jarring my spine. 

Harry’s fingers were still pressed into the slit of my ripped pants, his hand gripping the whole of my right arse cheek from beneath the material, skin on skin, as the man shoved his way into my space, fast and rough.

I squealed out, watching the shifting muscles of Harry’s shoulder blades tense and relax as he bent the slightest to dig his fingers harder into my bum and drag me up the wall with the pull of his hand, pressing his chest flush against my own in a dizzying action.

The only thing I could comprehend about the room we were in was the pitch black, floors having that same dark granite color in the Chamber and a large mattress that was blanketed with burgundy silks. My eyes weren't allowed to take in anything else since the only thing I could see was Harry’s looming frame. He pressed his pelvis against my own, his defined hips bringing the hard, long, thick line of his cock on my own.

_Harry was hard._

What’s happening?

Oh bloody _fuck_!

“ _Harry!_ -” My exclamation was cut off when I felt Harry let out a predatory growl, the sound brutally and terrifyingly animalistic, rumbling deep in my own chest and causing me to let out a whimper when the glowing ruby red and peridot green of the assassin’s gaze collided with my own as Harry’s lips, always set into an expressionless line, curled up into a predatory snarl that made my stomach clench with a dark _need_ and undeniable fear.

The voice that came out of Harry’s mouth was almost demonic in the way it pitched an octave lower than usual, reminding me of the thunderous lull of an incoming storm. “Open your mouth.”

_Harry’s angry._

_Harry is losing his calm._

I let my mouth drop open, only to exhale a high moan when I felt and saw Harry’s other hand slip his index and middle finger over my tongue and all the way to the back of my throat, flicking the salty, hot flesh of his appendages slowly around my gums and teeth, dragging them out to push rapid fast back into my throat and making the back of my head smash against the surface of the wall behind me. “Suck on them.”

_Oh buggering hell!_

The harsh demand rumbling from Harry’s voice made me hollow my cheeks around the intruding fingers of the assassin's in my mouth, face turning a vibrant red now as I felt my cock twitch wonderfully over Harry’s own.

The hard planes of Harry’s abs pressed up against my stomach, his black hair falling into the hooded glow of his brilliant red green gaze that watched me with an unnerving focus.  The veins in his exposed, bronze hued muscled arms were prominent, pecs pressing up against the material of his short sleeved shirt as those lean biceps of his grew taught at the way Harry kept pushing me further into the wall with the flush of his fit frame.

The hand on my arse grew harder with its grasp when Harry’s gaze traced the flutter of my eyelashes against the tops of my cheekbones, making my eyes widen and a sound of distress leave my occupied mouth as I was abruptly bounced up the wall from the slow grind of Harry’s hips up against my own, his cock rubbing over mine with a heavy, heated friction that made the whole of my body erupt in shivers.

“Ngh! A-Ah!” Incoherent words were babbling out of my mouth when Harry thrust his two fingers back and forth into my the gape of my lips, the motion similar to that of fucking as I was being made to take in the assassins penetrating appendages without protest, the musky taste of his flesh warm and intoxicating on my tongue.

My heart was pounding so hard beneath my chest that I could hear the thrumming pulse of it echo within the ringing of my hot ears.

“You have no idea. You don’t know _nothing._ Such a bloody, fucking _tease._ You make this so hard, Draco. You should have obeyed me, should have stayed _away_.” Harry let his words out through the deep rasp of his voice, the sound rigid with simmering rage and an undertone of annoyance.

_What was Harry talking about?_

I lifted up my own hips from the wall in an attempt to grind my pelvis against Harry’s, but the man let out a chuckle, sweltering and volatile, as he snapped his lower half forward to jam me tight against the wall and keep me still with the heavy pressure of his frame crowding into my own.

Harry let out a tsk, mocking and heated as he gazed down at me with the slow, upturn of his succulent lips, beautiful and devilish. “No no no. This is a punishment, _Kitten_. And you’ll take it. Soon. Be a good, patient _pretty_ boy for me and keep sucking my fingers in like the slut that you are.”

I let out a shuddering gasping whine at Harry’s words, mind reeling at everything happening all at once to me and around me, the press of Harry’s body against mine causing my brain to malfunction and focus on _Harry Harry Harry._

Every thrust of the Gryffindor’s fingers into my mouth and down my throat made my cock ache with the need for friction, but I couldn’t _move._ Harry had me trapped.

And I loved every second of it.

_Fucking shite!_

Saliva started to gather up in my mouth and spill out over the corners of my lips to curve down my jaw and the upturn of my craning neck as I stared helplessly up at Harry with large eyes, the sensations skittering over my skin and inside of my body all new and overwhelmingly pleasurable.

I’ve never felt this way.

_Why was Harry doing this?_

_Did he like me? Was this all just a punishment for him?_

I let out a gasping keen around Harry’s fingers, the sounds spilling out of my suctioned cheeks mortifying and similar to that of a whore.

Harry knelt his head down more to let the warmth of his breath tingle the part of my mouth, that melting crimson jaded gaze of his travelling down my face to watch the trickle of my saliva trail out of my mouth and down my neck in a sloppy, curving, wet manner.

Harry's voice dropped into a brutally calm rumble, the sound shaking my rib cage and causing my breath to leave my lungs for a passing beat. The now straight, cold line of his mouth revealed a dark and foreboding air, giving nothing away of his thoughts.

Terrifyingly seductive.

“Oh, _Princess,_ this is going to hurt.”

I was in deep, _deep_ shite.


	7. Tainted: A Tribulation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Breathes deeply* I give you all a new chapter! This one took a toll on me because Harry, in this story, is a very complex person and I had a roller coaster ride with the way Harry acted and the way he expressed himself in this particular chapter. He's a difficult character in my vision, a dark one at that, and it's even harder to express it to you readers in the best way that I can. I hope you love this update, because I had a ton of fun writing it. I know I said that I will try getting my next update released on the weekend, but I don't think I can with my work getting in the way, I'm so sorry. So the next update will be on a Monday instead or if I get it done earlier, I'll post it on a late Sunday night. 
> 
> Please. Enjoy to your dirty hearts' content!
> 
> UPDATE ON TENEBROUS' NEXT CHAPTER! IMPORTANT TO READ! AT THE END OF NOTES!

 

“H-Harry? I s-swear I didn’t intend to get myself hurt tonight. I p-p-promise I won’t do it again!” My words were a constant stream of unnerved, flared questions and statements, the whole of my frame trembling from where I was roughly pressed flush between a wall and Harry’s tall, lean and muscled scorching body.

My rambling of words were muffled by the long and warm fingers of Harry’s that kept pushing against the flat of my tongue and down my throat, consuming the entirety of my mouth with the musky taste of his appendages. My own saliva kept gathering around the edges of my stretched occupied mouth to slip its way down the curving red of my flushed cheeks as the back of my skull kept banging against the surface behind me from the _harsh_ shove of Harry’s constantly thrusting fingers that _fucked_ the caverns of my wet mouth.

I was set aflame.

The pit of my gut pinched with this sort of inferno of fire that licked me from the inside and out in a dizzying state of arousal, fear and utter confusion.

I wanted to know why Harry was bubbling with this calm anger that only the hue of his hell glowing emerald kissed eyes shown through the dark gleam of his gaze whenever it caught my own stricken, embarrassed one with the eerily serene countenance displayed across the gorgeous features of his face.

Harry watched me such hard focus, as if he wanted to sear the very being of his attention straight into the center of my essence, to pick apart every little nook and cranny like aspect of my myself so he could reconstruct the pieces of my internal conscience for his own amusement and torturous intention.

I _hiccuped_ with the incoherent murmurs of confused, heat laden words around Harry’s penetrating fingers within the access of my parted lips that were suckling, embarrassingly so, around the puncturing appendages as if my body had a mind of its own when it came to doing whatever Harry wanted from it.

And terrifyingly so, I didn’t mind it.

Which was rather shocking and mortifying to my person considering how _much_ I didn’t mind the sudden bursting touch of Harry’s flesh in and on mine for longer than a passing moment, how much I craved it rather than ran away from such an intimate prelude between the two of us.

I’ve _desired_ Harry touching me for years.

And now he was doing it.

But was this the way that I wanted Harry to touch me? The assassin had clearly said that this was a punishment, to teach me a lesson, but did Harry think of this as anything more than disciplining the bratty Malfoy that he knew since we were young?

_Did Harry sexually want you the way you want him?_

He said my punishment was going to _hurt._

Was this just going to be all pain without any pleasure the way I’ve imagined, fantasized and wanted throughout the years of my lonesome, pathetic, needy life?

I didn’t want Harry’s touch if our feelings didn’t reciprocate one another, if he didn’t like me the way I liked him. It’d put me in agonized self deprecation if I had the one and only man and person that I’ve allowed myself to have ever emotionally and sexually craved touch me without having any deeper feelings and notions behind it.

Oh _fuck._

I started shaking my head back and forth, the first motion a tiny shift that I had trouble procuring upon my trembling figure only to ascend to a violent action that made the long strands of my hair whip around the hot of my cheeks.

I couldn’t let Harry touch me more than he already was doing when I _knew_ he didn’t feel the way I did for him.

I wanted the Gryffindor to keep letting me purse the hot of my wanton lips around his musky, warmed long thrusting fingers and revel in the pulsating thrum of my hardened cock that pressed against Harry’s _large_ and huge one that was just as stiff as my own but I couldn’t let _this_ continue with the horrible, panicky notion that Harry was just getting hard on the aspect of teaching the ex death eater a lesson that he had coming to him for ages and that the assassin felt no desire for me whatsoever.

Harry saw the way I shook my head rigorously now, the hard press of his body up against my own, towering and overflowing with a dark intimidation, stilling as he let his gaze peer into my own with a piercing illuminate wicked stare. The obsidian chips of his hair shimmered beneath the low lighting as a _heavy_ silence fell between us, his fingers easing out of my mouth to suddenly grip the sharp sides of my hanging jaw and press his spit slick thumb and middle finger into my flesh there, brutal and ominous as he snagged my face up to have _make_ my gaze level with his own.

I squeaked from the malicious treatment.

“Why do you want me to stop, _Kitten.”_ The deep timbre of Harry’s voice shuddered like a riotous monsoon down the length of my curving spine, the sound emitting a sinful demand rather than a question.

Harry sounded _pissed._

Even if the expressionless line of his mouth gave no sense of emotion away from his person.

I could just _feel_ the maddening rage ticking inside of this assassin before me.

And I couldn’t bring myself to say what I’ve been thinking throughout this situation I’ve found myself in.

It’d give away the simple fact that I liked Harry. I mean, I _like_ the way Harry is blunt with me, how he’s real and upfront about his thoughts but I would end up in pain and sorrow if I let Harry touch me in the way I’ve always wanted. I’d only feel disappointed and hate towards myself for thinking that Harry had fucking _feelings_ for me with the contact he’d put upon my body, making me conjure up the flicker of hope that perhaps the assassin wanted me when in accordance with the truth, he didn’t.

But Harry didn’t let me keep the thin layer of a mental shield I put up between us right at this moment, because the Gryffindor tightened his hold on the sides of my jaw and sharply dug the blunt of his nails over the curve of my arse cheek and inner thigh with his other hand, making me cry out in frustrated slumbering lust.

“Tell me  _why_ you want to stop, Draco. What? You can’t handle a little bit of a punishment you’ve been itching for since we’ve collided with each other’s lives all over again? Tell me, what’s going on in that witty head of yours.” Harry was _mocking_ me, the deep lull of his voice harsh and unforgiving, slandering me and basically calling me pathetic for not having the courage to say out loud what I’ve wanted to since meeting Harry all over again.

And of course, I snapped at Harry in the Malfoy manner I’ve learned to hone since I was a child, in reference to hide the raw emotions from spilling out of the fine tuned mask I’ve created and perfected for more than twenty years now. “You don’t _want_ me the way I want you! For fucksakes H-Harry, I’ve had this stupid crush on you ever since you saw me cry in that bathroom and f-f-flashed me a charming smile during my trial in the wizard court. W-Why do you want to know so much about what I’m thinking-g-g-g when you don’t even care about me!? You _mock_ me, you’re constantly _mean_ to me and you so obviously despise being in the same bloody room as me, s-so why the hell would I tell you I like you when I know you don’t feel an ounce of the same feelings as I have f-f-for you!”

Harry had kept picking at the worst of my nerves and insecurities, calling me out on my lack of mental strength whenever he could and even though I liked the humiliation the assassin made me feel like the freakish, kinky twat that I am, I couldn’t let him touch me anymore than he already has because that would only give me false hope that I couldn’t bear to have when I know the outcome would be horrible.

My heart was beating erratically beneath my chest, the admission of my liking for Harry spewing forth out of my mouth with a raw, indignant sharp hue of my voice that shook in its tone as I shivered in the exposing of my thoughts that I wanted to keep to myself but didn’t have the strength to contain anymore.

I kept on rambling. A ball of suffocating tension filling my chest and aching there as I breathed raggedly against the wall with weakened limbs, the backs of my widened eyes burning with the sensation of forcing back the salty water that I could feel build up and start to blur the fast blinking of my nervous gaze.

I was crying.

This was all too much.

Harry touching me has made me gone fucking bonkers.

The repressed feelings that I’d hidden for all these years were finally bursting forth. And I had no way to stop it.

“I made y-y-you stop because if you keep touching me then I would build up the pathetic hope that you’d have some feelings for me since y-y-you’re allowing yourself to take pleasure in the press of our flesh. I can’t have you do that, you bloody bastard! Y-y-you’ve already taken solace in my mind and have completely c-c-conquered every minute of my waking thoughts. But I can’t let you have my body when you don’t even want it. Y-You only want to teach me a lesson and take pleasure in only the hurt you give m-m-me. And I _hate_ you for making me admit these things out loud. I hate that you make me weaker than I already am, I hate you! _IhateyouIhateyouIhatey-_ ” My broken words were halted from the swift release of Harry’s hand clutching my jaw still to having my throat enraptured in a vice grip as I gasped out a broken sob at the warmth of Harry’s wet fingers curling around the slender of my neck like a fucking snake and shoving my head back against the wall as he _tightened_ his hold around the jut of my Adam’s apple and flexed the calm of his hands around my collar with a sadistic flash of blood red lighting up the sharp and _heartless_ hue of those beautifully sinful eyes.

Harry had me pinned.

Harry seemed like someone who no longer had that calm control he always carried around with him, but instead, it was as if he had shed just one layer out of many others of his steel like skin and was showing me a _monster_ made up of cruel and demented air.

The atmosphere surrounding the both of us seemed to not have thickened, but thinned out, as if the very space we collected in started to become non existent, lacking oxygen, lacking _life_ itself and leaving a hollowed out form of space that left me trembling in unadulterated fright and wicked warmth.

Harry’s leaned his head down near mine, pushing his front into me, his cock so very _hard_ as the muscles in his shoulders shifted in a motion of sickened delight, his deep breath visible as the contours of his shirt spread out over the heaving of his fit chest, the fabric accommodating to the sharp lines of his muscles.

Gorgeous and … sinister, truly so.

The assassin’s hair ruffled about as he knelt his head and spoke near the part of my gasping mouth, that hot breath of his breathing fire into me as the red in his eyes seemed to have consumed the green entirely and left me with this unknown man made up of _ruin._ The hand around my throat squeezed, making my breaths come out stilted and my body wiggle in discomforting, shamed _want._

The line of Harry’s mouth tilted up, so very slow and filled with something that I was scared to admit in the own space of my mind, it was _wrong_ and filthy and similar to that of a Devil’s giddiness with the slight curve forming on the side of Harry’s succulent mouth.

“You don’t hate me. I don’t ever want to hear you say that _again._ But I want you to feel it. I want you to soak in your loathe for me even though you don’t feel an ounce of it because I _need_ you to. You know why, my _pretty little princess_ ?” My heart stammered beneath my rib cage at the Harry I was facing, so dark and sadistic as the husky, melting shade of his voice slithered its way into my gut and _tasted_ me there, nestling and brewing into the whole of my person like intoxication.

My airway was being cut off longer between each interval of a game of catch and release of the oxygen I needed, as if Harry was purposely _playing_ with me, like the idea of cutting off the air I lived off on being controlled by the assassin’s hand made him feel immense, foreboding joy at the easy way he can have power over me.

I was scared.

I was turned on, but my cock wasn’t hard given the fact at how much emotions were riling through me like a hurricane, like there was this dull ache in the spaces of my body that filled with a needy heat for the man in front of me. My cock wasn’t hard because I had to make it not perk up with sheer mental force. I feared that if I shown how aroused I was by all this, something _bad_ will happen to me. And I had to focus on the issue here.

Harry had turned into someone I didn’t recognize, someone more malicious and cold.

I was both enthralled and cautious.

The Gryffindor let out a hum, contemplative and rumbling like the crashing of rolling waves against the most Onyx of rocks. The hand curved around my bare arse pulled me up the wall with effortless ease, dragging me up the length of the flat surface even more so than I already had been to cause my feet to dangle below me, my broken cry of surprise and azure flecked fire gathering in my groin.

Harry continued with his words, predatory and carnal. “I _like_ you, so I need you to hate me. You don’t have a single ounce of thought as to how much I’ve imagined _impaling_ you on the hard jut of my cock, how much I’ve watched you throughout the last five years, without you knowing. Watched you bathe, watched you sob in the latest of nights and struggle between the dilemma of making you cry more or soothing your worries. You see, I’m not _right_ in the head. I’m not _good_ for you. I will end up killing you if you and I grow more physically attached to one another. You will be the end of me, and I to you. I will push my entirety into you, the darkest, most vile parts of me and that will be your demise. We can _never_ be together.” Harry murmured his confession to me, the rough of his voice dropping significantly as he watched me through the strands of his shadowed, tousled hair, opening and releasing his hold on my throat like he was straining against the urge to choke me out or let me _breathe._

The veins in Harry’s neck were prominent, the chords of his muscles tensing and relaxing as the sharp line of his jaw grew taut, a storm brewing in those irreverent eyes of his.

Stunning.

Unholy.

“But then you go off, almost get touched by another man and parade around in _this_ slutty outfit and _make_ me lose the fine control I have around you. Perhaps you stopping me from giving you a good punishment was for the best, because then … fuck, then I wouldn’t have to worry about going too far and _hurting_ you.” Harry grunted out the low words between us, as if talking to himself as he watched me beneath the dark of his lashes, gaze hooded and burning.

 _Harry said he_ likes _you._

 _Harry said he’ll end up_ killing you.

A myriad of thunderous thoughts barged against one another in the confines of my head, and despite the tremor I felt at the mere admission of Harry literally being the end of my existence if we were to get close to one another, physically, I was stuck like honey against flesh, on the way Harry had uttered his confession to liking me.

It had come out dark.

The Gryffindor’s voice was rendered in immoral torment when he spoke such a simple word to me.

And it was a heated, genuine, sinister tone.

But why would Harry want me to hate him so much? Even when I couldn’t for the life of me, despite the way I repeated how much I hated him over and over again. Harry _knew_ I didn’t hate him, but he _needed_ me to.

Why was it so dangerous to like one another?

When I whimpered out loud at the constricting tightening hold of the assassin’s hand around my neck, I felt a shocking burst of warmth and crazed delighted arousal run through the lax of my body as I fell into a heady space of replaying Harry saying that he _liked_ me.

I know what Harry was saying was vital and unmistakably important to the both of us, but I  completely ignored his warning about the bad consequences that will occur if we physically got intimate with one another and focused on Harry simply _liking_ me. I couldn’t stop the elated, fearful yet anticipated warmth surging beneath my skin from his confession.

_You’re going to regret this._

_Harry said you need to stay away, you need to hate him and keep yourself nowhere near his touch._

But just this once, for a brief moment, I wanted Harry to touch me with his want for me evident and shown.

I won’t let it get too far, and I’m sure Harry wouldn’t because he was so damn adamant on making sure that we would never be together.

So this one time.

Just let me have this man’s touch, for one moment of my life.

“I l-l-like you, Harry.” I spoke through the heavy, shuddered breaths of my throat that was being held captive by Harry’s hot, branding hand. Gathering up the nerve to peer up at this domineering man from beneath the tear stained wet of my eyelashes, a pink tinge caressed my neck and cheeks as the large of my opal gaze timidly met Harry’s.

_You’re playing with fire, Draco. Harry will chew you up and spit you out if you get too close. All mangled and beaten and bruised._

I wanted that though.

And I was scared of it.

But now I knew that Harry held feelings for me, feelings that were made up of a

vicious possessiveness that I both wanted to run towards to and away from.

_You’re going to try to seduce Harry._

_You’re fucking crazy._

I’ve never attempted at tempting someone, hell, I felt too self conscious and not really good looking enough to do such a thing what with being shunned my whole life and not being looked twice at. But I wanted Harry’s touch, wanted to feel the _appetite_ the assassin held within himself whenever he was with me.

At least, I wanted to try and get Harry to touch me.

I would most definitely be a sore loser in my attempt, but at least I could say I tried.

With my mind going wild with horrified and heated thoughts, I knew I’d have to learn

about the reason why Harry was so keen on making me hate him and how dangerous we were for one another after thus whole event. If the Gryffindor wouldn’t tell me, I’d find it out myself.

But right now. I was desperate for Harry’s skin on mine.

Harry’s body went rigid, the flex in his jaw so tight that I worried the man would snap and tear me apart at any moment, like the prey I felt like I was around this predator. The crimson of Harry’s gaze darkened into a maroon hue, flecks of jade flickering like lights in the red of his eyes as they zeroed into the way I sucked in my bottom lip and rolled it between the pinch of my white teeth. I let my bad habit show, this time using it to an advantage that I’ve never had done before, chewing profusely against the plump of my wet mouth that throbbed from the stretching it was put under by Harry’s fingers not just a few seconds ago.

“I know what you’re doing, Kitten. You’re already in need of a punishment, that you prevented in time, you’ll only make this worse for both you and I if you keep tempting me like the whore that you are, so stop _that._ ” The assassin drew out the deep timbre of his voice that whispered over my thrumming mouth, causing an uptick in my pulse from the way Harry kept his gaze fixated on the nibbling on my lip.

A keen left my mouth at the filthy words the Gryffindor spoke out loud, him calling me  a “whore” doing nothing but quickening the rush of blood to my perking cock and infusing gas to the fire growing within my quivering chest.

This is the first time I’ve actually seen Harry focus on a part of my body with heat broiling in his gaze, at least, the first time that Harry is letting himself show how much attention he puts onto me.

With energy sizzling across the warmth of my flesh, I spoke through a decadent whisper that seemed to speak volumes in the tension strung tight around both Harry and I, my chest rising and falling with the harsh increments of my breaths pushing themselves passed my shaking, scared and excited lips. I stared into the shadow of Harry’s gleaming gaze, immersing myself in the looming figure of the man standing a silver of air in front of me, not quite _close enough._ “Make. Me.”

Everything went into a splash of moving colors in front of the wide of my eyes, varying dark shades obscuring my view when I felt my body being shifted too fast for my mind to comprehend what was happening in time.

I couldn’t even utter a sound of surprise.

Harry’s hands were off of me, the touch of his skin against my own gone. I was left panting across the space of the floor I found myself sprawled over on the flat of my tummy, the cold, black shimmering marble of the ground eliciting a shiver to race down my spine and confusion to mar the bubbling heat in my stomach. There was no sign of the assassin anywhere near, just a quiet that made the hollow of my ears ring with the pounding of my heart. “H-Harry? Where are you? W-What’s happen-”

Fingers shoved their way into the open seams of my leather pants, the touch _scalding_ as I released a broken cry into the room in shock. I heard and _felt_ the unmistakable rip of the fabric echoing throughout the pregnant silence of the room, causing my head to snap to the side and peek behind me from the mess of my blonde hair.

_Ah, fuck._

I watched Harry sit across the edge of the silken bed in the room with his knees spread apart in a laze like position, his back hunched over as he tilted his upper torso forward, the stretch of his T-Shirt curving deliciously over every dip of the assassin’s lean muscles, both his elbows resting on his knee caps. Harry’s hair fell forward with the motion, pitch black and disheveled as the tousled locks licked deliciously against the curve of his sharp cheekbones, golden skin humming with ominous power.

His eyes were hidden beneath the low drawl of his eyelids, so I couldn’t make out what he was thinking, but there was the disarming cool line of lips that told me that I wouldn’t have been able to tell what the Gryffindor was feeling simply because he wasn’t _showing_ what he felt.

But dammit, he was _sexy._

With one simple tug upwards of Harry’s index fingers in the rip of my pants below my arsecheeks, the material tore away with a deafening splitting of fabric bouncing off of the dark walls surrounding us, and I yelped out as the careless action made my hips sway from one side to the next from the rough pull of Harry’s hands.

Warmed air hit the bare of my exposed bum now, my gaze large as I stared, dumbly, at the pieces of torn leather fluttering beside my naked thighs.

On instinct at being left with no clothes on my lower half, I tried to scramble across the floor with the snapping of my hands coming up above my head so I could claw my fingers into the stone floor and get some leverage in my writhing panic, embarrassment, and heat to try and drag myself away from the prying eyes of Harry’s that I could feel boring into the soft cheeks on my arse.

I went bright red.

And my insecurity crashed into me like a bloody bulldozer.

I didn’t expect to be undressed to fucking fast!

“Nonononono! D-D-Don’t look, never mind about touching me, I-I-I’ll-” I cut off my own words when I heard the sheer hysteria pitched high in the tremor of my raspy tone, my fingernails digging into the floor with a frenzy as I tried to push myself up onto my forearms to gain enough weight on the tips of my toes so I could push myself up and cover the whole of my body.

My heart was beating wildly in the hum of my burning ears.

Harry didn’t give me no chance to escape.

I heard the vibrating, animalistic cadence of Harry’s growl reverberate within the soles of my feet and up the dip of my spine to the top of my head, the sound a deep warning that dipped itself in wicked threat and making my body spontaneously shudder as I whimpered beneath the gasping of my open mouth.

“Oh, try running, _Kitten._ ” The Gryffindor’s voice represented that of a demonic essence, so very low that I grew restless and _too_ hot at the sheer malevolent sound Harry’s tone emitted in those simple words.

My stupid cock was growing harder by each passing minute, the danger and seduction eluding my body to practically purr in dark delight as well as tremble in anxiety at having so quickly been stripped out of my my pants and being left out to the open.

I’ve never had anyone see me like _this._

So I did run, in the mixture of my rioting emotions, the tremor in my limbs prominent as I tried to gain enough strength to make myself get up and off the floor, only to squeal when the same warmth of Harry’s hands gripped my hip bones and punctured the pale of my skin there enough to make me let out a sound that ranged between a moaning wheeze as I felt Harry drag my body towards his sitting frame with the quick pull of his burning hands on my hips.

What little leverage I had, was no longer available when the too fast motion of Harry’s tug on my hips made me drop to the front of my chest with a smack, a cracked whimper escaping my stricken mouth. The assassin’s grip on my waist was ironclad, preventing me to do nothing but let myself be dragged across the cold floor on my front with my breath caught in my throat.

Looking back at Harry, I saw him lift my arse up into the air, making the curve of my spine dip down and leave my lower half suspended with the arch of my back pronounce and my hard prick dangling between the spread of my legs. The assassin released my hips to grab onto the front of my thighs and without further warning, spread my legs apart, easing my limbs away from one another as he settled my the thighs over the meat of his burning ones.

My chest and face took the blunt of my weight, the palm of my sweat slick hands pressing against the floor as I moved my head to the side to let my cheek rest against the ground with a stutter in my chest, my saucer shape, moonstone gaze trying to find Harry’s as the man brought this head up and _watched_ me through the strands of his charcoal hair, the film of his emerald tinted, blood moon eyes alluring and _severe._

I _shook_ in Harry’s lap and across the floor.

“ _H-Harry._ I don’t … I’ve n-never-r-r …” My words grew faint through a hiccup I released as a spike of pleasure shot right over my groin and in the mingling of my trepidation when the Gryffindor gave me an ascending tilt of his lush mouth, the corners of the usually void line of a lips turned up into a crude, carnal grin at the same time he raised a brow and brought his knees further apart, agonizingly slow, causing my thighs placed precariously over his own to sprawl out and split apart even more so.

I let out a pathetic whine at the motion.

My knees were bent as my lower half was up held up in the air by Harry’s thighs, the curling of my hanging toes having no ground to touch but the warmed atmosphere surrounding us.

That’s when I felt a hot breeze sweep around the rim of the hole settled between my bumcheeks from the constant stretch of my legs being pulled apart further and further from Harry’s doing, displaying the twitching nervous pucker of my hole to the Gryffindor’s dark gaze.

“I know. You’re a sweet, untouched virgin who’s never shown you’re creamy pale naked flesh to anyone … ” Harry mumbled out his words in a deep rumble as his hands settled over the curves of my arse and squished the meat they held with a biting force that made me jolt against my prone position across the floor.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Harry’s though, he held me captive in his own as he continued to speak through my labored breathing with his nails burrowing into my arsecheeks with a brutal hold that had me wriggling on the spot, continuing his words he had slowly let drift away. “ _But_ me. I’ll be the first and _last_ to see you like this. So you’re going to take the punishment you asked for. You’re going to get exactly what you wanted and I’m going to _enjoy_ every second of it as much as I can before I _have_ to stop. You bloody, _brat._ ” Harry’s voice was thunderous and alarming in the way he spoke, the tense of his jaw flexing in time with the rise and fall of my chest pressed against the floor.

And then my eyes caught the mark on the low of my back.

Harry’s eyes followed where my gaze briefly went and his grin widened even more, so depraved and seductive that my brain melted from my skull and pooled around the sprawl of my chest against the ground, disintegrating and leaving me breathless as I went rigid in anticipation for the Gryffindor’s response to my weird mark. “I-I don’t know what that mark is. O-Or who put it on me.” My words were choked out and breathy, hot and bothered all at the same time.

_Why was Harry smiling more when he noticed my mark?_

The assassin let out a soft, lulling chuckle, filled with a heavy possessive cruelty that made my skin erupt in shivers, Harry’s red green gaze fixated on my own confused, heated and terrified one, his words ricocheting off the ceiling and back down to me like a predatory prominence. “I left it there.”

_What?_

A scream tore away from the dropping of my perplexed jaw all of the sudden, head snapping to the front and body jerking in Harry’s lap as well as across the floor when the heated flat palm of the Gryffindor’s hand became a blur of motion and I felt a stinging slap smack against both my arsecheeks and right over my quivering, exposed hole.

“ _Harry!_ ” My shouted words were loud and cracking at the tones, shrill with pain and pleasure as the force of Harry’s slap made my bum jiggle and my virgin hole _throb_ in ache and _want._

“Yeah, go on and scream my name, _Kitten._ ” Harry responded to my scream of his name with the low drawl of dark, heated amusement, not waiting for my reply when I felt another sickening crack of his palm splitting the skin on my right arse cheek that made my back bow down like I was a bundle of string ready to break apart by the swishing blade of a sharp knife, the strike so fucking violent that I could feel the skin of my bum hum with a burning throb and the flesh there tearing apart the slightest bit.

Tears immediately sprung up in the wild, huge circles of my grey watered down eyes.

That _hurt._

And I _loved_ it.

My prick swung between the spread of my legs and the space created between Harry’s knees as I rigorously trembled from my suspended position.

“ _O-O-Oh,_ buggering hell. _Fuc-c-ck!_ ” My last word was yelled through the part of my wet mouth as my chest and the side of my cheek bounced and slid up the floor from another heavy slap of Harry’s palm against my left arsecheek, this time smashing the heat of his hand right where my thigh met the curve of my cheek, making me kick out my legs in blissful pain, not knowing whether or not to try and escape the spanking I was receiving.

My frame was like a live wire, power surging through the bubbling heat of my veins as the inside of my gut tingled with a bombing of arousal and terror. Snatching the weak limp of my hands up, I subconsciously grappled at the floor as my thighs shook on the sides of Harry’s own, my poor throbbing prick swinging to and fro in the hot air as I writhed in delirious need.

“You look good like this. All spread out for me to do as I please with. Always such a pretty thing, sashaying this plump and juicy arse in front of me and that forever, gaping rose bud of a mouth open constantly as if asking for me to shove my cock into it. _Fuck,_ when you went down on your knees to grab that stupid fork, you arched your back like the kitten that you are and wiggled your arse so lovingly. Such a _slut._ You had a punishment coming to you the moment I watched you sob on the bathroom floor back in Hogwarts, so _vulnerable_ and there for me to just take on the wet floor and fuck you numb.” Harry’s filthy words were a deep husk that skated over my flesh teasingly while he laid out another brutal smack across both my arse cheeks, the tips of his fingers _grazing_ my hole and making me spasm across the floor with my lips open wide in a silent scream.

“P-p-please! Harry, oh _gods,_ that hurts. So good, k-k-keep touching me. Always wanted y-y-you-” I squealed when the assassin made a series of sharp slaps against both my bumcheeks, switching form one to the other and causing me to _shriek_ like bloody Mary in the heat of the quiet room, my hands thudding against the floor as I screamed my throat raw whenever Harry landed one blow after another on my most likely bleeding and bruised arse with the way the flesh _burned._

I’ve never been touched this way.

But I’ve imagined it.

And with Harry flooding my fantasies each time.

Now it was _real._ And it felt like I was on the precipice of pain and ecstasy.

All notions of shyness for my body was being thrown out the window in the throes of my pleasure induced agony.

_IwantmoreIwantmoreIwantmore!_

I wanted Harry to hurt me more, to _touch_ me in that dark dominance of his.

It felt like I was floating above my existence, an out of body experience that was consumed by the menacing, Stygian force of harry’s hands and presence.

_You’re so dirty._

_Pathetic._

“Tell me you like me again.” Harry’s demand was laced in a threatening order, the tone a no-arguments-allowed that rendered me clawing the blood stained tint of my fingers into the floor as if they were the flesh of Harry’s back that I imagined digging my frenzied nails into the way I wanted at the moment but with his cock in my arse all the while.

I followed Harry’s orders like a instant trigger, my voice quaking. “I-I-I like you!”

Another smack.

And another.

And _another._

My reddened cheeks were streaked with my tears now, my mouth emitting a moaning whine that hiccuped in my sobs, eyelashes wet with droplets and my hair haphazard with my sweat and its natural chaotic strands.

I was a mess.

I was set on fire.

I was _alive._

And I couldn’t get enough.

Even when the pain on my arse grew in tremendous ache, I didn’t want Harry to stop spanking me like the brat Harry and I knew that I was.

I _asked_ for his punishment and pushed Harry with my temptation.

I was terrified out of my wits, but I was also out of my mind with pleasure.

Harry did that to me.

“And. I. Like. _You_.” It was as if Harry was punishing me for liking him when he spoke his confession out loud with the timbre of his gruff, tormenting words. As if him caring for me was the damnation of mine and his existence, a hatred laced in his deep rooted affection for me.

It was pure _sin._

Landing a slap right against my hole, my voice came out shrill and breaking at the pitch tones, my cheek rubbing up against the marble floor  from the jerk of my body that shook with electrified pain. My cock pulsated with the need for release as a heavy pressure started to sizzle its way down my arched spine and my squirming bottom half, sweltering and my damned unbecoming.

I was going to come.

Right on Harry’s lap.

From a bloody _spanking._

From a _punishment._

“H-H-Harry! I-I’m going to come. A-A-Ah!” I panted out into the open air, squeaking when the Gryffindor took one of his hands, gripped my waist and tugged me up further onto his lap until my sore arse collided with the bottom of his fit and warm abs beneath his shirt and my bare cock rubbed up against the unbearably rock hard bulge of the prick beneath his constricted pants.

The friction was _exquisite._

“Tell me what you did wrong today, _Draco_.” Harry said his words with a deep growl, so animal like that it made me keen in response from how none human the assassin sounded at the moment, as if he was something demonic.

I was full out crying now, breaths gasping out of my mouth when Harry continued to smack both my arse cheeks in quick successions with one hand and with the other that clutched my waist in a death grip, brought my lower half up the length of his hard prick and back down, rubbing me off of him in a torturous grind that made my eyes roll to the back of my head in absolute bliss. My lashes fluttered about as I went limp at the limbs and practically fell into a puddle of jello like substance, my body twitching in overstimulation as my chest and the side of my face pressed flush with the floor and my sweat slick.

The heavy presence in my groin kept building and I was chanting out Harry’s names between the influx of my rapid breaths, the only thing holding my lower half up into the air and in the Gryffindor’s lap was Harry’s one hand as he forcefully rocked my pained prick over his own in delicious sway and drag.

I could smell the scent of metallic, rustic blood filter through the air around us and _knew_ that it came from the red liquid of my now prone fingers and the skin of my arse where Harry kept inhumanely smacking my cheeks with too much of an impact, but I liked is _so_ very much. _._

When Harry started to connect the palm of his hand down on my bum harder with a deprecating grumble of a chuckle, I sobbed harder, tears streaming down my face and drying on my cheeks as I cried out with each vicious smack, realizing that I didn’t answer to Harry’s demand yet.

“I-I-I disobeyed you. I-I almost got touched by a-another m-man and dressed like a s-s-s-slut. _O-Oh oh!_ F-fuck! I-I _tempted_ you. I was being a brat. I’m sorry, _I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry,_ Harry!” I spoke out my words in a shaking breath, my chest shuddering beneath my lax weight as I was being stripped of every coherent thought, hovering above any logical notions as I became just an object of sex.

“You like getting punished huh? Come on, Princess, you need to get yourself off don’t you? Start moving your hips and rub your cute little prick over my cock. Tell me that you’ve been a bad boy.” Harry started to still his rocking of my hips with his hand clutched tight over my waist but kept on smacking me with sharp jabs of his other.

“ _IneedtocomeIneedtocome!_ I’ve been a b-b-bad boy! Please, pleaseplease! Let me c-come!” I was reduced to this weakened, wanton thing and I couldn’t prevent it, I was too gone in the haze of my seventh heaven.

And when Harry didn’t move a muscle in the hand that was rubbing my lower half up against his own, I cried out in mortified frustration and blindingly stared ahead of myself as I brought the shaking of my hands up with my forearms to lay them out under me so I could get a strained leverage over the floor  and made a minute rock of my cock over Harry’s, blushing like the virgin that I was and letting out an obscure, wet moan that made Harry’s bulge stiffen further and my skin break out in shamed goosebumps.

With my arms trembling like they had their own earthquake rumbling in the depths of my nerves, I looked over my shoulder with the watery hue of my gaze, capturing Harry’s eerily enticing glow of crimson and peridot green that shown a wicked satisfaction in the way I bit down on my lip and held back the muffled whimper trying to rip its way out of my mouth when I couldn’t catch the violent swipe of Harry’s hand coming down over my arse again, that sadistic smirk playing across the curve of the Gryffindor’s provocative lips.

He raised a dark brow up at me.

_Do as I tell you to._

That’s what Harry was thinking out loud towards me.

And I let out a hushed, quiet gasp as I rolled my hips in a figure eight motion over Harry’s prick, brushing my own with his and letting out a wail of restrained pleasure that I felt was just at the tip of my bursting coming.

I was full on babbling now.

Grinding on Harry’s lap as he delivered one smack after the other, my mind was in a daze as I peered at the assassin to watch his gaze shift away from my eyes and stare with a perverse danger at my rocking arse, taking solace in the hurt and heat he created on and in me.

I was swaying back and forth, my arms skidding across the floor in my staggering, needy pace to make myself come, rubbing myself off of Harry like a cat in heat, blushing and stuttering out pleas for my pleasure to release out of me.

“Keep on doing that, Kitten. So damn _pretty_.” The Gryffindor’s voice shook then, with a powerful cadence that held more than one note of a voice, a series of disembodied, shadowed pitches all coming together at once and filtering throughout the whole of the room that made me scream out in confused fear and arousal, my widened eyes blinking up at the sight of Harry’s lids lowering and his mouth curling up into a vicious drawl of exaltation and brutality.

It was as if Harry’s voice fused with that of the very devil himself, every dark being flooding themselves in Harry’s vocal chords and coveting both of us as Harry gave a snarl that resembled that of a hellhound, face contorting into dark delight as he watched me rock back and forth in a fever pitch, my cock pulsating and the pleasure building in harsh volumes.

The air surrounding us went visibly thinner, making it hard to breathe and my mind to spiral out of control as I felt myself become dizzy with the sudden mixture of chilled and fire induced air.

“ _H-Harry._ I’m about to come! W-wh-what’s happening? Aha-ah-ngh!” The heavy familiar sensation of Harry’s dark magic slipped its way around my torso in a slinking touch, wrapping itself over me to abruptly tug me up in a nauseating fast pace where I found my back colliding with the burning, hot clothed covered abs of Harry’s, feeling the racing of his own heart against the sweat of my shuddering spine.

“I’ll stop once you come. I’m holding _it_ back. Come on baby, let me watch you fall apart this one time and I’ll stop. I don’t want to. But I’ll stop.” Harry’s voice seemed to fluctuate between the normal, deep honey drip of his voice to that of the demonic essences that spewed out of his mouth terrifyingly so. He sounded like he was in strained ache as well, like he was holding back something.

Was this what Harry was saying?

That if he kept touching me like this, intimately and sexually, that he would _hurt_ me?

This wasn’t making any sense.

And I couldn’t think straight, not when I felt the hot of Harry’s breath fan across my right earlobe as the bottom of his lip brushed tantalizingly close to the flesh there, his lean and muscled, tall body curving over the smaller of my petite frame, shrouding me in his darkness when he smacked the side of my spread right thigh and snapped his hips up to rub the tip of his hard cock over my hole and create a zap of warmth and energy throughout my trembling body.

I wailed then.

My throat went raw as I bounced in Harry’s lap with the abrupt thrust of his hips against my arse, making me grasp onto his knees between the spread of my thighs with my flailing, twitching hands to grab ahold of something to ground me and keep me seated to prevent myself from falling flat on my face.

I was scared.

I was in _rapture._

There was no strength left in me to rock my hips back against Harry’s cock, but the Gryffindor didn’t seem to mind with the way he kept slapping the sides of my thighs with the violent smack of his one hand and kept the other on my hips to drag me back and forth over his cock, the more calm but deep rasping breaths of Harry’s colliding with my own ragged, panting ones echoing throughout the sadistic air around us.

The pleasure kept climbing higher in my spine and spreading out like wildfire over my groin from the rocking motions of Harry’s cock tauntingly brushing against my quaking hole, the heavy punishing slaps from his other hands on my thighs, and the sheer press of his body and breaths pushing against my flesh.

“Mng! _H-H-Harry_ , I-I-I-!” My voice seemed to split in its whimpering pitch at the end of my proclamation, everything becoming too much for me to handle.

Harry was _everywhere_ and I was _losing_ my fucking mind.

I felt the Gryffindor’s teeth clamp lightly over my the skin of my earlobe, making me whine out in misery and lust as I started to crumple in this man’s arms. Harry scrapped the sharp edges of his teeth over my flushed ear, nipping at my flesh as he let out a pleasing, sinister hum that vibrated within my groin and chest and very being. His voice was laced in tensed darkness and warmth, so seductive and utterly ravenous. “You’ve been waiting for me to give you permission to come. Such a good boy. Come on then. Come, _Princess._ ”

And I did exactly that.

With my mouth open and releasing no such sound as I _writhed_ over Harry’s lap while the man sat profusely still and let out a rumble of possessive malice, the assassin held himself rigid as if he knew not to move or else he could snap at any moment from holding back whatever it was he was restraining.

And I fucking fell apart at the seams.

My head fell back, a dead weight. I felt my cheek thud against Harry’s shoulder, resting there as I spewed forth a stream of cum that shot out of my purpling cock in an arc. It sprayed across the obsidian floor, my body shuddering while my hips made an indefinite convulsing like motion that made the white buzz in my ears become a static sound reminding me of the pelting of rushed rain.

My gaze wandered from one wall to the next in front of me, bewildered and quivering in my pleasured haze. I couldn’t see anything but black, bursting spots and an array of blood red flecks, like the ruby of Harry’s eyes.

I came and came and _came_ until every last drop was wrung out of me.

Pressing the tip of my nose into Harry’s neck, I let myself breathe in his cigar and rain scent, bathing myself in his warmth and feeling his chest shift beneath me the the slightest before falling into a normal, relaxed rhythm, the tense line of his hard body seeming to laze back now. The stilted air that surrounded us disappearing in a slow withdrawal.

I turned into a slack limpet now.

"Well aren’t you a snuggle bun-” Harry’s soft, deep murmur halted when he once again, went visibly stalk still and I felt every muscle in his body go taut.

I went to lift my head up to see the assassin’s face, only to be grabbed at the sides over the still harsh expanding of my ribs from my deep, worn out breaths by the man with his hot hands, plucked off of his lap like a rag doll and dropped precariously over the silken sheets of the bed.

Harry’s eyes were searching the room then, my head tilted back as I watched him and the sharp of his illuminate green red gaze darken in a deep focus, his body like stone with the complete stillness he held himself with. The handsome lines of his face shuddered into that cold indifference right in front of me, leaving me shivering and confused.

“Harry? W-what’s wrong-” My words were prevented by the quick motion of the Gryffindor’s hands rising up in a gesture to make me stop talking, silently telling me to keep quiet as the man standing in front of me with a decreasing hard on went deadly hushed. It was as if he was mentally venturing away from me and leaving me stranded.  

My heart was hammering hard, not from arousal this time, but from a anxious, confused cadence.

I sat delicately across the bed, waiting for Harry to speak as his faraway gaze flickered every which way around him. Like he was searching or lost in his own world.

After a moment of dreaded silence in the room, Harry, as if finally deciding to come back to me, snapped his brilliant dewy grass green and inflamed eyes back to me, releasing a voice made up of no emotion and a frigid note that caused my own body to become taut with tension. “We’ve been compromised.”

_Oh, fuck._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to check out my tumblr!: reimcai 
> 
> It's specifically created to show my ideas and inspirations and I talk to my readers and answer any questions you guys' have!
> 
> UPDATE! IMPORTANT!
> 
> I want to cry. 
> 
> I almost had the chapter done on Tenebrous, and then my old as hell laptop decided to shut down on me and glitch out. The WHOLE chapter was erased from my word document because it wasn’t saved since I had no time to from the mere fact that my laptop practically died on me! This morning I had sobbed for about a good five minuted or more (probably more) because I worked extremely hard on the chapter and now I have to start all over again. 
> 
> I’m going out to buy a new laptop so this doesn’t happen again. I’m typing this out through my phone because life hates me and I want to hurl from knowing how much hard work I put into this upcoming chapter, is gone. Vanished. And I really hate not giving you guys’ an update because I looked forward to sharing my work with you all but I can’t because it’s now none existent (I’m having a temper tantrum/depressing episode)
> 
> I want to say I’m sorry to those who were excited to read the update this Monday, because I’m going to have to postpone it until Wednesday night. Again, I’m so sorry. This happened before but I didn’t have money to buy a new laptop, but I do now, so when I get a new one, we won’t have to worry about this happening again. 
> 
> Please understand. I’ll give you guys the next chapter to Tenebrous Wednesday night as I write the whole thing up all over again. 
> 
> Thank you.


	8. Perforate: A Transgression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty guys! This chapter had to be cut a little short because I had written a lot more than this before everything was deleted on my stupid old lap top. I decided to give you half of the update and thought that it was a good chapter in itself, although short. The next update most likely be an equal length, but with a little bit more. I thought it was a good idea to make this one the way it turned out to be. It was fun, it was dark and there's going to be a lot more fucked up things to come, this is just the start. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy. 
> 
> Read on. The next chapter will be posted on Monday, May 28th. Thank you!

 

I swallowed around a suddenly dry mouth, any moisture that conjured itself up into the space behind the slight open gape of my lips, was significantly gone. A cotton ball fixated dryness remained in my mouth that reminded me of the sensation of someone going without any semblance of water in the bloody Sahara desert.

I couldn’t find it in myself to speak, the large, stricken cobalt of my eyes staring straight up at the way Harry’s profusely darkened gaze settled unnervingly calm onto my prone figure across the bed where he plopped me down onto right after I had the most mind numbing orgasm throughout the whole of the twenty one years I’ve lived.

And I was still reeling from it.

There was that low thrum of sated pleasure buzzing across the laze of my weakened limbs, spreading through my person similar to that of a river running over the most jagged of rocks, slickening them with a wet sensation.

My cum was splattered across the navel of my flat stomach, covering the pristine marble floor in pearly white droplets.

But I couldn’t relax in the haze of the aftershocks of my orgasm, which I really wanted to, all for the sole reason that Harry and his assassin, powerfully magicked up arse, sensed that there was _something_ happening outside of this room that was here to hurt us.

I don’t know how Harry knew this. The way the Gryffindor seemed to visibly turn into a stature right before my eyes with the way he held himself so still as those red green eyes of his wandered from every aspect of the room to the next like he was searching or trying to understand what was going on around him, gave me the notion that the man before me was sensing something that I couldn’t.

And then Harry opened the succulent curves of his emotionless mouth and uttered out three words that made my flesh break out in unwanted tremors of terror streaked caution and trepidation. The lingering thrum of my arousal dissipated then, and I was left with an anxiety that I could not shake off.  

“W-We’ve been … _compromised?_ ” My words came out quiet in the heavy silence of the room. My mind was still trying to wrap itself around the idea that, somehow, whatever that was looking for Harry and I, found us and I assumed that it didn’t want to take a seat and have a cup of tea with us either.

The strong line of Harry’s jaw flexed abnormally tight, as if the muscles there were straining to combust at any given moment, the air surrounding the whole of the assassin’s frame cold and unflinchingly attentive.

Without a given notice, the Gryffindor lowered the hand that had gestured for me to keep quiet, sweeping it vertically into the air in front of me, the motion fast and careless as the illuminate ruby hue of Harry’s eyes seemed to throb in his harsh gaze that stayed on my figure.

I jerked in surprise, my breath exhaling lightly from my gaping mouth, as I felt the drying cum on my skin, vanish. The bare of my legs and my naked groin were now covered up by the leather pants that Harry had torn off of me just minutes before, my eyes taking in the barren floor now, scraps of the ripped fabric gone and the evidence of my pleasure becoming a clean slate.

My appearance was back to its regular state.

And the room that I dirtied up, was once again prim and proper.

Harry used his magic on me like it was children’s play, no words murmured out loud, just pure mental strength capacity that allowed the depth of his power to release and conjure up over my person.

“We need to get out of here. I can _hear_ them. _Feel_ their hunger. In the next few minutes, Draco, I want you to follow _every_ order I give you without hesitation. I need you to keep your mind in check, as best as you can, because this is going to get messy extremely fast and I will not be holding you’re dead body in my hands anytime soon. You do as I say, when I say it, and exactly how I say it. Don’t argue with me. And do not speak. Do you understand.” Harry’s voice dropped into that of a thunderous roil, akin to a heavy cadence that seemed to wind its way around the very harsh expansions of my lungs, squeezing around my air supply to leave me bereft of any air. There was no question in Harry’s tone, just pure stringent demand that settled like murky water in the shaking of my limbs as I sat in my incoming turmoil and the abrupt realization that shite was about to hit the fan and if I didn’t want to die, I had to do as the professional assassin _exactly_ said.

It didn’t help that the cold demeanor the Gryffindor was emitting at the moment made the blood beneath my trembling, pale flesh simmer with a hot _need._

_Now is not the time to get turned on by Harry, Draco!_

I couldn’t help the way my body reacted to everything Harry did, there was something in the way the man carried himself so still and strict, similar to how he was just a few minutes ago with the way he had _punished_ me. But now, it was more profound and controlled into a tight space that contained a more unnervingly calm fixation and a dark thrill enticing inside the pit of my gut from the knowledge that I had no clue when this man before me would snap and do his job.

_To kill._

And I grew slightly dizzy with a nauseous sensation at the way my thoughts and the frame of my person reacted to such a _horrible_ arousal.  

 _You shouldn’t be getting hot and bothered at the thought of Harry bloody_ killing.

But there was also this weighing unadulterated _fear_ of the assassin staring down at me that filtered in with the heated warmth mingling together with the ball of anxiety in my chest. The fact that I was in a situation that could very much potentially have my body ending up rotting and without any soul made me want to crawl away to the nearest hole and bury myself there so I could keep myself away from the barrage of emotions and chaotic dark wanting bubbling beneath my skin.

I was in contradiction.

_I’m fucked up._

But words were spilling forth from my quaking mouth before I could stop them, my response automatic to the orders Harry given me. “Okay.” My words were jilted with a rasp that had the pitch of my quiet whisper heightening and lowering in different sound intervals, wavering and hot and scared.

I was trying to get my shite together after having an orgasm, hearing Harry admit to _liking_ me, hearing from the man that I liked tell me that we couldn’t be together because it would literally _kill_ me, and knowing there was this upcoming terror coming for us anytime now.

I couldn’t focus on any of that right now though.

I couldn’t even focus on the way I felt out of my skin and felt _too_ exposed in front of the Gryffindor, not knowing whether or not it was a good idea to have been so vulnerable in front of this assassin.

_You can’t have him._

_You can’t be with him._

Did Harry even _really_ like me or was this just a way to mess up my mental state of mind like he does so easily and cruelly?

_Harry wouldn’t do that._

Bloody hell, my insecurities on top of everything else that I was in ferment over was not helping the nerves rioting in my veins at the moment.

With my brows furrowed, my body jolted back, eyes widening when Harry shifted so fast in front of my eyes that it felt like my head would have been swivelling off of my neck at my quick, sorry attempt to following the assassin’s rushed motion that led him to turn the broad of his back towards me, standing right in front of my sitting form across the bed.

My mind couldn’t keep up with everything that happened then.

I had felt my flesh break out in shuddering shivers as I let out a light gasp in horror and surprise when I heard the the creaking of the room’s door make a minute grate of sound to suddenly burst apart at the hinges, wood splintering with a deafening _crash_ and pieces flying about in a haphazard state.

I blinked.

Taking in the way Harry’s back was eerily stuck with stiffness and how the muscles shifted with a predatory movement beneath the fabric of his dark shirt, I didn’t have the capability in my eyes to catch Harry actually bringing out a sleek black gun in the palm of his steady hand, the product looking eerily familiar to a Walther PPQ M2 from the quick motion of it being gripped in the Gryffindor's palm.

When the door had slammed opened and broke apart, Harry had his weapon out and ready and with his back covering the whole of my vision from what came barging in through the door, I only heard a tiny sound of whatever it was that intercepted into the area.

And it was downright _sickening._

It carried an animalistic tremor in its sound, emitting a frequency that quaked in a screeching pitch of hungered delirious _craving._ My ears had rung with a painful screech at the sound of whatever it was that crashed into the room, an ache settling in the thrumming of my temples and stomach as the vibrating clicking rumble that escaped it caused my whole body to freeze up in terror, as if my whole frame had become non existent in the face of my fear.

The sound was there for only a split of a second before Harry, without as much as flinching and without hesitation with how fast he pulled the trigger on his gun, fired one single bullet that rang aloud throughout the room and stung my hearing range, temporarily cutting off any noise from the strain of my ears.

There was a moment where I felt Harry’s ominous magic, more demented and sinister than I’ve ever experienced before, wrap and consume the air surrounding us.

And the magic was suffocating.

There was a disturbing lightness to it that seemed to drain the very energy in the the area, my body breaking out in tremors from being in its slight presence, more so that what came into the room through the fucking door.

Harry’s magic made me want to jump off of the nearest cliff and douse myself beneath hundreds of pounds of water in hopes to escape from _it,_ to completely engage myself beneath a filter of liquid until my limbs grew taut with immobility before Harry’s power could seep into the feverish flesh of mine.

But it was gone just as fast as it came.

And the sound of a creature like squeal tore through the room with a torturous scream of agonized sensation, as if the thing in front of Harry that I couldn’t see had been put onto the nearest examination table and was being picked apart vessel by bloody vessel, reaping its very essence alive and slaughtering its mental stability.

My body was full on having a seizure it seemed with how much I began trembling.

Then everything went quiet.

At least, only for a moment.

I found myself being lifted up on weakened limbs by the scorching touch of Harry’s hand grasping my upper arm in a vice grip, the lax of my frame tugged up roughly from the solace of the bed while my eyes wandered about with hysteric horror as I scrambled on the two clumsy, stricken feet of mine, trying to keep up with Harry’s long legged strides.

“H-Harry-” My voice was strained with nerves, my words being swallowed within the half of my choked fear as I wobbled on my horribly wobbling legs, my head twisting around Harry’s person to catch sight of what the assassin had shot without blinking an eye.

That’s when I saw what Harry killed.

And I couldn’t stop the familiar sensation of bile rising up the confines of my constricting throat, acidic in the back of my mouth and molars as a heaving sickness developed itself in the quivering of my gut.

I swayed in a haze of shocked revulsion, feeling my body lilt sideways in a state of nausea, but Harry seemed to have known how I would react to seeing what he shot since the man had easily nestled me into his side with a fast pull, the solid length of his hard body keeping me up and moving as the heat he radiated drowned over my shivering frame.

“You’re going to see a lot more of them when we exit this room. And I told you to keep quiet. You speak, they will hear you and _come_ for you.” The Gryffindor’s voice was murmured in a low drawl that rumbled over my cold flesh, brutal and emotionless but calming to my panicking mind from what I was still looking at as Harry tugged me with him to exit the room.

My eyes wouldn’t leave the prone deformed figure coated in blood and guts across the black marble.

The human like creature that was strewn across the floor in a splatter of crimson, thick blood flowing from the large gaping hole in the right of his upper torso, was made up of the most foul of a shape. It was as if the animal had once been human, its knee caps looking as if they were blown away to snap back and represent the hind legs of a deer, but bulkier with its flesh seeming to strain against the cords of overwhelming muscle.

The colors of its skin was pigmented into a shadowed black encasement, the arms as long and discombobulated as the twisted shape of its animalistic legs as the torso it carried seemed concave, like the creature itself was made up of a black hole ready to suck its very being into itself at any given moment.

Long claw tips were sharpened into a similar state of a blade, shining beneath the low fluorescent lighting of the room in the dark of its color, a gleaming of black steel it seemed. The claws represented the creature’s harsh tipped teeth as its snout was formed into that of a snarling wolf but more elongated and tipped down as if the animal’s features came out of the muggle worlds black plague when the doctors wore those unsettling masks.

And the creature’s eyes … there wasn’t any.

Nor no nose or ears.  

Just that disturbing mouth.

The humanly deformed creature reminded me of disease, not having much of a face to its name and the pure carnal coming of death itself.

The smell it emitted made me curl into Harry’s side some more, my breath stilting in the working of my repugnance and fear, my heart racing beneath my shaking chest as I gulped down the throw up that threatened to burst forth out of my mouth any second now.

The creature’s scent was made up of _rot._ Something akin to the decaying form of a human’s body after being laid out in its raw flesh for a good few days, decayed and carrying a sour, sulfuric scent that made the corners of my eyes begin to water from the repugnant scent.

The thing was _creepy._

And there was more of them waiting for us.

Harry had said I was going to see these creature a lot more once we exited this room.

That made the anxiety shift higher inside of the sickening roil of my stomach, my breaths coming faster in short staccatos as I tried to gather enough mental strength to stay beside Harry as we stepped out of the room and started to climb up the stairs.

Even though Harry told me to keep quiet, I couldn’t help but babble as I looked up at the assassin’s face, the set of his succulent lips hard lined as the jade and sangria hue of his eyes stared forward, all composed and heavily focused, handsome in his concentration. “W-why can’t we just apparate on out of here-”

Harry’s jaw tightened for a minute shifting moment, tensing with a strict countenance as he spoke through the barely thin veil of his almost immovable mouth, his hard gaze shifting down to stare at me for a swift millisecond. “Last warning. Don’t talk. I don’t want you to utter a sound. They will be able to hear _you_. I want you to stay where I want you to while Weasley and Granger arrive and help them out with the killing. I sent a mental link call towards them with my magic so they should be apparating here soon enough. I can’t apparate out of here because those creatures, which are called “Carbonou”, have strong scent tracers embedded into their skin, they can smell my magic which they are meant to track for, hunt, and kill. So we’ll just be followed unless we kill them first. Which I plan to do.” The assassin’s voice lowered into a dark lull, coaxing and heavy in the words he emitted out loud.

Climbing up the stairs, that same pungent smell of a Carbonou permeated through my senses, making the line of my back break out in shudders on anticipated horror when I jolted against Harry’s side as my ears were suddenly intruded upon with the sounds of gutted screams.

Screeching shrieks of pain and the sound of the cracking of bones and ripping of human flesh flooded my hearing, causing my breath to hitch in strain and terror as those screams reminded me of the war when I was a teenager, but _worse._

And I instinctively practically tried molding myself into Harry’s side as my heart rate picked up in abnormal ticks, the blood pulsing in my veins faster than usual as I felt a a foreboding air scurry its way into my bones.

How was I going to be kept out of harm’s way when Harry and the others are supposed to fight at the same time? And why does Harry not want me to speak around a Carbonou? The Gryffindor made it sound like if those creatures heard me, then I’d be in even more trouble.

When we reached the end of the first half of the stairs to reach the ground level of the club where I had walked through three times now, I heard the usual sound of an apparating spell suction right beside me, causing me to whip my head towards the direction of the teleportation and stare as Sirius and Caetia stood, perfectly intact without any scratch or bruise on their persons, next to both Harry and I.

Caetia looked pale at the complexion though, the nerves evident across the elfin like features of his face that was pinched in worry as his amber eyes flicked back and forth from Sirius to Harry and I. He didn’t utter a sound though, probably having been told to keep quiet like Harry had told me to.

And this time, I did.

Sirius’ dark eyes swept over my body for a splitting minute before settling onto Harry’s with a narrow of his gaze, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes portraying that of constricted anxiety, weariness and a hint of fear as he spoke in a low whisper among the hell scramble of pained screams surrounding us now. “I’ll keep him safe. You do your job with Granger and Weasley.”

No.

Wait.

I wanted to be with Harry.

What?

Before I could open my mouth to protest, Harry had plucked me off of him without looking back at me, his body seeming to be made up of rock as the muscles of his lean frame made no shift to show any sign of discomfort as Harry took the rest of the steps up to reach the level where all those agonized screams echoed and the sound of those Carbonou’s deafening growls and snarls came from, their scent overwhelming and filthy in its stench.

I sucked in a sharp breath when I felt Sirius’ hand wrap around the left of my elbow, but I couldn’t keep my eyes away from Harry’s, nervous and fearful of the fact that the assassin wasn’t going to be with me during this whole shite show and for his fucking safety.

_You don’t need to worry about Harry being safe. He can defend himself well, he’s a bloody assassin._

Sirius started leading me up the steps along with Caetia, right behind Harry’s retreating figure as he reached the top landing of the stairs and literally _popped_ out of my line of view, using that fucking teleportation spell again.

I panicked.

Tugging on my cousin’s hand that was a tight grip over my elbow, he let me run up the stairs as I dragged him along with Caetia pressed tight against Sirius’ side. “Draco, Harry will be fine. Trust me. Just don’t make a sound when you’re going to see what’s going on-”

I gasped, tripping over my faltering, skittered steps as my right foot splashed rustic, metallic blood all over the bottom of my calves and leather pants when my eyes started to make out the club’s ground level, my head rearing back as if I was violently slapped across the front of my forehead. The light of my fearful rasp of a breath buzzing in my ringing ears as I watched the scene before me.

It was a _bloodbath._

Carbonou’s were tearing into Krum’s customers like they were chew toys, the sawing of their jaws snapping across the meaty flesh of scurrying legs as the people tried to run from the leaping, quick sprint of the disturbing creatures. Torsos, limbs, pieces of torn away and half gnawed on already rotting flesh painting the once pristine floor and walls of the club.

Crimson color washed the whole of the surface of the floor, flooding the ground with its copper scent mindling in with the sour scent the killing creatures eluded.

I twisted my head to the side when I heard the unmistakable, very familiar, sound of someone heaving in air too fast like they were about to hurl chunks all over the place, and it was Caetia, as well as me.

I could feel it building up the same time I watched the brown haired boy’s chest rise and fall in a hyperventilation of sorts, my breaths coming in quick and surprisingly turning into the same erratic rhythm as Caetia’s.

We were both going to throw up.

I snapped my eyes away as I took in the way Sirius’ boyfriend’s back hunched as a warning that he was about to vomit any second now and focused on my own hysteric breathing as that same alcoholic, unwanted taste bubbled up in the back of my throat with a clawing fixation, stomach dipping with sickness while my widened eyes couldn’t escape the sight before me.

Granger and Weasley were shooting off pistol after pistol, their hand occupied by their handguns as Carnobous kept rushing towards them with those shrill, animalistic sounds, snapping their mouth continuously as they ate at the malicious air and searched for the two wizard assassins.

Caetia up heaved his dinner all over the blood soaked floor.

And I followed soon after.

Breathing in lungfuls of air, I tried to calm the fast beating of my heart against my rib cage as I watched Granger do a series of thorough spin kicks against a Carnobous’ head with a sickening _crunch_ , the creature doubling over sideways with the side of his blank head simmering with a burnt black flesh color, smoke tangling itself away from the singe.

Weasley had easily grabbed a hold of one Carnobous that came barrelling in through towards him, its packed muscles bunching up with a mass of flash quick movement, the redhead having grunted when he dug the meat of his fingers into the Carnobous’ front left mangled leg and with a cry of frustration, tugged the creature’s leg clean off of it’s deformed torso and watched it writhe for only a second before bringing up his sleek black hand gun and creating a hole in its head with a bullet.

The hole wouldn’t be that big though by just one bullet.

And the impact of Granger’s kick to the Carnobous she just killed was abnormal with its burned flesh from where her foot connected with its head.

They were using their magic combined with their weapons and physical attacks to make the impacts harder and more lethal as well as their quickness in movements.

“Harry! Now should be a good time to use that trick of yours!” Granger’s unruly curls of auburn hair flipped around her neutral set of features as those doe brown eyes of hers snapped to the center of the large and red streaked room that was quickly stacking up with more piles and piles of human body parts.

Following Granger’s gaze, I caught sight of Harry standing absolutely still in the throng of slowly decaying bodies, the Carnobous creatures simply passing him by as if not once noticing the Chosen One that stood impeccably still, green red eyes taking in the state of the room with a malignant calm that was unnerving.

Harry didn’t reply to Granger’s words. The Gryffindor stood with blood rising up to his ankles as the muscles in his shoulder blades and abs rose and fell in deep relaxed breaths, as if he was trying to keep a hold of his composure as his jaw flexed in cruel concentration.

The Carnobous didn’t notice Harry at all.

 _“Don’t talk”._ I remember Harry murmuring to me before we reached the club level floor.

That’s when it clicked.

These creatures, perhaps, could not see or sense those who do not use magic nor talk out loud. They didn’t have any eyes, from what I had observed from that Carnobous that Harry killed back in our guest room, and since most of the people here at the club probably talked a mile a minute in their panic as well as tried using magic to protect themselves, were easily caught by those animalistic human like things because those creatures tracked them down that way.

I wasn’t being attacked.

Neither was Sirius and Caetia, because those two weren’t using their magic and they weren’t talking either. I assumed Harry used some sort of spell as well as Sirius to keep the sounds of mine, Caetia’s and their own voices unheard when we were talking right before reaching the top of the stairs. But I didn’t sense it.

Harry and Sirius must have used his magic very covertly for me to not sense it and for any of those creatures not to as well.

I got why we couldn’t apparate though, because with apparition, you left traces of magic and since the physical body of the person that used the spell had been teleported to another area, they couldn’t mask the magic they left behind in casting the chant since they weren't physically there do so, and so the Carnobous would immediately pick up on the magical residue, hunt down its owner and kill them.

But why wasn’t Harry fighting the Carnobous like Granger and Weasley were doing?

As Weasley and Granger fought off the creatures barging towards them with a blood thirst that were displayed across the upturned sneer of their downturned, long snouts, one going down after another with the magic and shots being procured upon them as intestines, limbs and red spewed every which way, it was Weasley that yelled out to Harry this time. “Fucking hell, Harry! Now!” The redhead's voice was husked in a quaking drawl, a panic and tiredness coveting his words.

I felt the air suddenly grow potentially cold and hot at the same time, a breezing burn that swept around the shivering of my figure as I was left bent over slightly with my trembling hands on my knees from the queasiness I could sense raking throughout my frame after throwing up all over the bloody floor and trying to keep myself from toppling over in my sickness.

This foreboding sensation reminded me of Harry's magic.

Wrenching my eyes back up to Harry, the Gryffindor’s eyes were slipped shut, a look of tranquility etched across his handsome features as his jaw flexed in the grinding of the very meager tension there, the only sign of the slight rigidity he held.

As if the assassin was keeping something from releasing out of himself.

The long line of his lean and muscled body had shifted only a bit from the slow, steady rise up his chest with the air he breathed, with such very little movement that I would not have caught it if not for the thousand times I’ve observed Harry throughout the years of our lives spent together at Hogwarts.

Like the Gryffindor had heard my thoughts, Harry had let the lids of his eyes open slowly, the long black of his eyelashes hanging low over the sudden pure, blood red of his glowing gaze, consumed by the crimson color whole like the floor we stood on.

The air in my lungs felt dissipated and gone from the shock and heat and turmoil my skin and body fell under as the astonishing brilliance of Harry’s gaze fell directly upon my figure, watching me beneath his hooded lids as the cupid bow shape of his lips tipped up into a grin that was nothing but sinister delight.

I shivered under his stare and the darkness he eluded.

The air was beginning to thin out.

My lungs were beginning to clench with the lack of oxygen in the atmosphere around me.

 I could feel my limbs suddenly go lax, all strength leaving my body as if energy was being sucked from my very pores and slipping its way towards Harry, my breaths coming out shorter as dizziness started to impede on my temples and sink its way into my very befuddled and rioting mind.

_Oh fuck._

I was going numb.

I couldn’t feel _anything._

What’s happening?

I was falling forward, my legs fumbling out from beneath me as I felt hands reach out in time to catch my frame at my sides, Sirius' warm hands gripping onto me to keep me from becoming a limpet across the bloodied floor.

The only sensation I could feel was a burning, low cadence of a warmth that settled deep into my groin, causing me to whimper out loud in distressed heat and confused fear as the blurry vision of my eyes sought out Harry’s.

The Gryffindor opened the malicious curve of his seductive grin, all predator sharp and callous. “You look nice getting all weak for me, _Kitten_ .” Those _voices_ that were disembodied and containing such carnal cruelty, all came from the upturn of Harry’s lips, roughened and slick with smooth, Stygian pleasure, rolling off of his tongue like a second, unearthly language that was directed towards me.

The possessive sounds Harry released was making my body quake in Sirius’ grip as my cousin tried to soothe my nervous, confounded heat of a mind with incoherent cooes of comfort, not talking but humming and grunting in a way to keep me calm.

 _What in the hell did Harry mean by_ that?

Was the assassin causing this sudden sluggish sensation throughout my body?

I was starting to see black and blue in my vision as my skin grew more hot and cold by each passing second, my gaze catching sight on how all the Carnobous creatures stilled in their rapacious movements as their blank faces swiveled over to where Harry stood.

Silence fell upon the room.

They must have sensed Harry's magic then.

The air became drained from my very being, a conclusion starting to formulate in the weak of my legs and arms, my eyes drooping with a dead tiredness that felt like heavy lead in my veins, flooding and cluttering my esophagus with a teasing, malicious touch.  

It felt like my essence was leaking out of me. Forcefully and without let up.

It wasn’t painful though.

There was this pleasurable hum in the low of my dipping stomach that came along with the light airiness in my head and shaking frame.  

Was my weakness Harry’s doing?

Then the quiet broke.

A thunderous scream erupted from one of the creatures, like a disgruntled battle cry as it made a twitch of a motion towards Harry’s person, the bundle of its muscles bunching up like a strung up ball of rubber bands. But before the Carnabous could even move one of its deformed legs a centimeter, Harry let out the most hush of a snicker, so careless and easy and _wicked_ as he lifted the right of his hand to swish the long of his heated fingers through the stilted air in an narrow oval trace, flicking his wrist in a sudden action that I couldn’t follow with my dreary eyes.

And with the confused, drained and heated opal hue of my gaze, something c _orrupt_ drew itself out of Harry’s still body, the color of ink like smoke having whipped forth from the bronze flesh of the assassin’s, similar to the obsidian color of Harry’s unruly hair.

I curled in on myself as the energy oozing out of Harry’s pores seemed to represent that of tar, turning into a thickened liquid like substance as its motion became an obscure rapid pace that my mind and eyes couldn’t catch.

I was finding it harder to breathe with how much my body went from warm to cool in every new second that ticked by.

Sirius seemed to have slumped along with Caetia as he also tried keeping the both of us up by our sides.

Granger and Weasley, who were closest to Harry, seemed to have dropped to the floor in awash of others blood and in their own sacks of human passed out flesh. During the time I focused on Harry, it seemed like right when he released the sinister of that black substance from his body, his friends couldn’t handle its potent energy and collapsed.

Harry's power was overwhelming.

Without even making a slight shift, the Tenebrous like magic that Harry emitted became a quick expansion, similar to that of an explosion as the black of the liquid like smoky filter separated like the breaking of atoms and inkling veins, spontaneous and releasing a burning scorch of air in its wake, momentarily rendering my vision _pitch black._

And that’s when, after a given moment of wandering aimlessly around in this heavy air of darkness with my wide, horrified eyes, my peripheral view started to cease out of the cluster of the harsh and ominous smoke like tar of Harry's magic to slowly disintegrate back to a crystalline clear view, as if I was peering my head out of an endless tunnel and into the clear sheen of shimmering water.

Except … well, what I found myself staring at as once the Stygian of Harry’s profusely powerful and brutal magic trickled away, was surely a scene that could rival a massacre, a genocide, a _damnation._

I sucked in a sharp breath as I stared out at the scene in front of me.

_Pure ruination._

 


	9. Carnage: A Decimation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I updated a day earlier than I said I would. Just couldn't wait to get it out there. Okay! Hope you liked this update, it's to move the plot along and get you guys riled up some more for the next chapter. Heated stuff is going to happen mixed in with anger and some questions answered. It's going to get all hot and heavy soon mwaha. The next update will be on June 5th or 6th, on Tuesday or Wednesday so please be understanding and be patient for the next chapter!
> 
> Thank you to those who are sticking around to read some more of the story and to those who gave it a chance. I appreciate the kudos and love the comments as always. Feel free to visit my tumblr for my stories!: reimcai
> 
> Now, go and read on ya demented perverts!

 

 

The whole of my frame shook with a tremendous fluster of rioting emotions, the dreadful sense of unease trickling fine and thin inside of me, like the slipping of an unforeseen virus clustering together across the definite quiver of my stomach. But there was also the heady sensation of a dark enrapture that my mind fell into as I gazed, stricken and dazed with a disturbing heat, at the massacre before me.

When the pressured, ominous shadowed tar like magic of Harry’s had dissipated after its sudden outburst and sinister power, it felt as if it crawled back inside the deceptive and harsh body of the assassin’s where it spewed forth from to hide away and settle back in its crime for the time being as it let the air surrounding me clear and reveal its destructive murder.

I heard Caetia start upchucking his innards all over the red floor beside me again, but my attention was fixated on the bloodbath sprayed every which way in front of me instead of on my cousin’s boyfriend.

_Holy fucking hell._

Both the Carbonou and the people that they had been feasting mindlessly on were flayed apart, the skin of their flesh having been burnt around the outline of their peeled back skin, introducing the display of their innards that had been spilling forth out of gouging holes that eerily reminded me of a beehive, all hollowed out although with their guts trailing through the indentations of their punctured bodies. Their insides were oozing across the floor in a sickening heap, spreading out around their scorched bodies, some limbs strewn about and torn from their torsos to leave a cesspool of rotting human meat and a river of crimson blood and pitch black liquid.  

The place looked like its own creation of hell.

Everything was dead, a massacre that left a pungent smell of decaying human and creatures, the scent strong and sour as it permeated throughout the whole of the room in a disturbing consume.

I felt the very center of my gut up heave violently as a nausea started to claw its way back up my working throat without much of a warning, my upper body bending forward to release deep breaths as I tried to calm my racing heart and the confusing emotions wrecking havoc within it.

_This is a fucking disaster._

_A carnage._

Harry’s dangerous. He’s terrifying and too powerful and _raw_ in his brutality. Harry did _this._

_Ah, but Harry didn’t hurt you._

For some appalling reason, my gut dipped with a zinge of energized warmth at that sudden intruding thought, briefly rendering my freak out session immobile as I snapped my eyes back up to look for Harry in all the wreckage he created, my pulse quickening as I looked for the threatening man with a sense of thrill and dread.

_Harry wouldn’t hurt you like he did to everyone here._

_He said he’d protect you._

_Harry, despite the murder he just procured upon this place, is still_ Harry. _The man who tries to save everyone even if to do so would often create wrongdoings throughout his journey._

I gasped out loud, the sound a shrill interruption in the face of the unearthly quiet surrounding me as I found my face mere inches away from a live and breathing Carbonou, the creature having appeared out of nowhere without any scratch whatsoever in and on its dysphoric body as it stood on all fours of its legs and _towered_ above me.

My heart faltered into the lowest point of my stomach then.

The Carbonou’s mouth was only a sliver of a breadth away from my upturned face, my gaze wide and frozen as I watched the creature open its mouth to reveal the sharp jut of its endless rows of razor edged teeth and release a rotted, heated breath across my forehead.

I held completely still.

Rampant thoughts were rushing through my mind now as I held the air in my lungs stiffly, causing my chest to ache as I attempted to not breathe for one second as fear caused my frame to become a prone figure.

I thought Harry killed everything!

Why was this Carbonou alive?

How did it find me when I didn’t even utter the sound of my voice throughout this whole shitshow?

_Why hasn’t the Carbonou killed you yet?_

I didn’t even try to look for Harry or the other’s around me for help, it felt if I moved my eyes away from the creature standing predatory and fixated in front of me, it would snap and tear into me like it did to those that tried running away from it.

The Carbonou shifted its haunches the tiniest bit, the movement quick on the uptake as it tilted the huge shape of its faceless head, a curious lilt that made the downturn of its elongated mouth point sideways and away from my face, the odd shape of its chest seizing up abruptly as its jaw unhinged even more.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.

_You’re going to die._

_Ohfuckofuckohfuckohfuck!_

The creature, to my horrified surprise, released a _huff,_ harsh and rumbling, similar to what Harry emits sometimes to show the delighted darkness he carries around with him. The Carbonou reared its head down further to swiftly press the space of his blackened forehead right up against the part of my panting, scared mouth.

The cool of its skin pushed softly over the plush of my bottom lip, the dry of its flesh catching on the divot in the middle of my quivering lip to drag the skin of it down, slow and deliberate as my mouth gaped wider beneath the force of the Carbonou’s doing.

_What the bloody fuck is happening?_

I couldn’t help the light whimper of confused fear and distress from escaping my lips, the sound restless and scared as my shuddering breath whooshed across the skin of the creature’s black, slick forehead.

It seemed the Carbonou reacted to my sound when it crowded in closer to my figure, shoving its massive frame into my personal space as it dragged my bottom lip down further, leaving my mouth open wide and the line of my bottom teeth scraping hesitantly across the flesh of its forehead.

I had stumbled a little on my own two feet from the creature encroaching in on me, my breath jilted in my convulsing throat as I resisted the urge to throw up at that horrid smell the Carbonou emitted. When I found myself fumbling around on my wavering balance, it seemed as if the creature knew my struggle to stay up and decided to make me wobble on my legs even more by the way it let out a shattering rumble of a growl that shook the insides of my chest, the sound skittering the beating of my erratic heart.

I stood motionless again.

But then a pressure, hot and heavy and _invading_ flooded into the caverns of my head, thrumming alive with a wicked Stygian of energy that coated the insides of my skull and made my ears hum in the tingling of pain it was suddenly under, my features pinching together in hurt as the sensation  _in_ my head started to become a thunderous pounding.

It made me dizzy and sick to my stomach.

And the pressure it created shook in its intoxicating power within my mind when a voice that wasn’t my own, ricocheted off of the walls of my head and echoed within my ears, causing me to jolt on the spot where I stood and my eyes to turn into massive saucers of befuddled shock.

 _“You … are … a pure thing. You feel fear but are intrigued. Such kindness and vulnerable strength ... will only lead to a sinister's interest of … you . ”_ The voice sounded inhumane, coming out in an animalistic snarl that’s tone was dropped two or more octaves, rattling inside of my head to the point where I couldn’t contain the broken cry from releasing out of my mouth at the torturous agony the voice created in my head.

For one moment I felt such burning agony in my mind, my ears burning and head feeling stuffed full of heat, and then the next, it was gone with the combustion of the Carbonou’s figure splitting itself apart right in front of me.

It’s body expanded from the inside and out, the obsidian color of its hard muscled skin tensing and stretching itself until the flesh ripped apart from each other and splurged in every direction it could find, the black of its insides being thrown haphazardly onto the floor and walls, it’s innards splattering and drenching all over the trembling of my form as I watched the thing turn into a string of flesh and bone.

My breaths were coming significantly faster and faster, the harsh of my heart beating against my rib cage causing my chest to rise up with a shudder and my body to gain a hazy weakness within itself at everything that just happened around me.

_What the hell is going on?_

I’m going crazy.

Who was the one that just talked to me through a weird mind telepathy link? Was it that Carbonou creature?

Oh bloody _hell._

What was the creature talking about?!

Blinking rapidly, through the blur of my panicked vision covered in the slime and excess meat of the Carbonou creature that spewed its dead waste all over me not a few seconds ago, I saw Harry’s figure a few feet away from my own.

The assassin had the same black blood and guts covering his whole fit frame from the Carbonou I assumed he just killed with the way he had his hand outstretched and clutching the very dismantled, lifeless heart that belonged to the shredded creature. The shadowed dark strands of Harry’s hair was a mess of tousled and disheveled locks, gleaming beneath the equally ink like tendrils of the Carbonou’s entrails that coated the Gryffindor’s lean and muscled body.

The heart in Harry’s hand was grasped between the assassin’s straining fingers, his appendages digging into the lifeless organism continuously in a controlled grind with the flex of his hand opening and closing, a vicious calm that shown the protruding veins that ran rampant and brutally in Harry’s arm.

My breath felt _stolen_ when I gazed up at Harry in a daze of confusion, fear and heat, my skin flooding with a warmth from being held captive beneath the playing colors of both green and red gleaming in Harry’s penetrating gaze, the emerald sheen of his eyes pulsating within the ruby glow.

Harry’s expression gave a cold demeanor, giving nothing away but a placating tranquility that was both unnerving and exhilarating.

_You’re so fucked up._

_You like the cruelty Harry emits even when it's wrong,_ so _wrong._

_But you like it._

_Darkness attracts you._

Rolling the bottom of my lip into the quivering of my mouth, I let my teeth scrape over the flesh there with a jabbing bite that resulted into a nervous chew as I was left speechless in the face of Harry’s presence, especially after having _seen_ what damage this man can do so easily and without any problem.

“H-Harry … what did you do j-just no-” My words were interrupted by the squeak leaving my lips when I felt the rush of warmed air closing in on me, Harry’s figure disappearing from my sight for a given second before reappearing, looming and consuming the space around my person with an inevitable proximity.

I jerked back, my body’s initial reaction to such a quick movement causing the skin on my arms to rise in dread and awe as Harry leaned the sharp and handsome features of his face down to meet my gaze at eye level and raised the heart in his hand in the tiny space he created between our almost flush bodies.

“No time to explain. We need to get out of here. I apparated Weasley, Granger, Sirius, and Caetia to a safe location so no one could trace their magic since they didn’t use the teleportation spell on themselves. You and I, we’re going to ride on out of here because there will be more coming for us if we don’t.” Harry’s voice was back to its normal husk, the low deep timbre lacking the bundle of almost demonic possession he contained a couple minutes ago, a smooth cadence to his tone that held that same lack of inflection and brutal calm within its sound.

I shivered at the sound of Harry’s voice, his _normal_ one, my skin breaking out in aroused goosebumps that I wanted to slap myself for. This was not the time to get all hot and bothered by Harry right now. And with all the carnage around us and the fact that Harry was holding a creature’s heart in his hand between our close bodies, it made the simmering pleasure I felt stay at a low broil inside of my body.

_You’re sick for feeling such inappropriate emotions with the man that slaughtered so ceaselessly._

_But Harry also did all this to protect you._

Fuckfuckfuck!

I want to know what Harry was keeping from me. I wanted to know _why_ us being together would never happen and why he would end up hurting me if we did? I also wanted to know about what the hell was going on with him in regards to all that _dark_ magic he’s got and why a Carbonou didn’t kill me but surely talked to me through a mental link? Why the hell didn’t that Carbonou not die from Harry’s power!?

I didn’t have the strength in myself to speak, any words I tried to conjure up out of my mouth halting and choking in the slender of my throat that still tasted like bile from my last throw up session.

Harry’s brilliant gaze flashed with vibrancy for a minute, fast and seeming to be unreal and causing me to think that I made up the whole thing in my mind, the red of his eyes shimmering in a shadowed countenance before he let out a snicker, wicked and cruel, the sound eliciting a shudder to run down my spine and back up in teasing licks.

I yelped when I caught sight of Harry’s fingers twitching around the heart in his hand for a brief second only to watch a moment later how it burst at the seams and flooded through his fingers like poisoned water as its gushed meaty tissue dribbled from the Assassin’s now empty hands, splattering in clunks of its pieces of flesh like a wet towel thunking onto solid ground.

It was a disgusting sound.

“I can _see_ your mind running a mile a minute. I’ll answer the questions you’ve got once we get out of here, but only if you do as I say now because anytime soon, we’ll be in the same situation we were in just a few minutes ago. So you're going to do as I told you to and follow me out of here.” Harry’s honey slick voice dripped with malicious intent, a demand evident in the contours of his voice as he spoke his last sentence, not sounding like a question at all with the inflection in his words.

Right.

_Fuck._

I’d have to get my arse into bloody gear right now. I could have a mental breakdown later from the clusterfuck that just happened.

I didn’t want another repeat of it.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I gave am immediate nod in Harry’s direction, my assent sharp and nervous as I attempted to let the fast rhythm of my hyperactive heart slow down into a settled pulsate, trying to get myself to stop the violent tremors in my hands and legs as I fixed my gaze onto the assassin’s, finding the determined tethered darkness in Harry’s eyes a calming effect.

_Breathe._

_Breathe._

_Calm down._

_You’ll get answers later. Harry promised._

_Just be good, get out here and breathe._

Harry must have noticed the way my body trembled from the shock of this whole situation because, to my utter surprise and humiliation, the assassin let out small “tsk” from the slightly curving upturn of his dark and mocking grin, his motions quick as I found myself being grasped at the waist with the hot of Harry’s black blood covered hands and being fucking swept up off of my feet and cradled, bridal style, in the strong curve of Harry’s arms.

“Harry! Put me the hell down! I-I can walk by myself.” My voice was high and shrill in my panicked mortification, my shoulder pressing into the hard line of Harry’s abs and strong chest beneath the onslaught of his shirt, the already slow beating of my heart quickening again from the press of Harry’s body against my own.

I was jostled in the Gryffindor’s arms, his right one sliding underneath my arse with the scorch of his black stained fingers catching on the ripped seams of the fabric of my pants that shown the beginning bottom curves of my cheeks, making me gasp out in affronted heat as as I tried wriggling my bottom half about to give the man a hint to not _touch_ me there so I wouldn’t end up getting aroused in the middle of a massacre while covered in a creatures innards.

_This is fucking insane._

_I’m losing my mind._

“You were taking too long, _Kitten._ And you’re in shock, you can barely move.” Harry’s only response to me was those simple words, blunt and monotonous as I stared up at him with a gape in my mouth, a flush creeping up my cheeks when the bastard started towards the front entrance of the club with long strides of his legs and trekked down the long tunnel that we had to walk through when we first got here.

I was bouncing in Harry’s arms, my arse bumping over the curl of his fingers that had a death grip on the meat of my cheeks, making my mouth turn up to reveal a pained hiss whenever Harry quickened his steps and situated me this way and that way in his arms, the tips of his fingers practically trying to burrow themselves into the fleshy meat of my arse and making my breath rise whenever his bloodied flesh of his searing appendages brushed across the exposed flesh of my arsecheeks.

It didn’t help that they still stung and throbbed from the spanking I got before everything that happened.

“Are you t-trying to bruise me, you bloody brute!? My arse is going to be more sore and marked by the time you’re done manhandling me. May I remind you that just moments before those Carbonou came barging into this club, you were _punishing_ me-” I yelped when Harry let the tips of his fingers tighten even more around the meat of my arse he had clutched in a vice grip between his fingers, squeezing and rubbing the aching, surely reddened, flesh there, burning me up from the inside and out and making my words get cut off.

I gave a sort of spasm with the shiver my frame gave away, my hands snapping up subconsciously to try and scrabble at Harry’s hand on my arse so I could try and pry those fucking long, hot, and  _painfully arousing_ fingers of his off of my cheeks.

But the damn assassin didn’t budge away from my bum at all!

“That was a one time thing. I don’t want to hear you say anything of it.” Harry’s low words were murmured out into the quiet air surrounding us, only sometimes interrupted by the fast track of Harry’s feet pressing across the dirt stained floor as he walked with a speed that wasn’t meant for a regular human.

_Right._

So Harry regrets what he did. Harry probably didn’t want to remember such a thing because he obviously just wanted to punish me.

_Harry said he likes you._

But perhaps Harry was just saying that to make me vulnerable enough to let him give me the punishment he intended to procure upon my person for being, simply, a brat that needed to be taught a lesson.

_Perhaps Harry doesn’t want to talk about what happened because he knows he can’t have you._

_Why reminisce about an event that would only bring about pain and anger from not getting what you want?_

But why?

I was about to ask Harry just that, but my words were prevented from escaping my curious mouth when I saw how we reached the end of the tunnel, no ladder or any given source to show _how_ Harry and I were going to get out of this hell hole.

But then Harry let me go, making my feet settle soundly onto the earthy floor, my eyes watching the Gryffindor reach his arms up above his head. The fabric of his shirt rode up the taut line of his fit stomach to reveal the bronzed flesh of his navel and abs as well as the low rise of his jeans that hung off of the cut lines of his hip bones, the cords of his muscles in both his stomach and arms tensing with a defined prominence as his shoulder blades protruded and reminded me of a slinking predator, powerful and all contained sin.

_Jesus fuck, Harry’s gorgeous._

I snapped out of my haze of thoughts when I heard the unmistakable _click_ of a hidden latch door embedded into the dirt stained ceiling above our heads, both of Harry’s hands planting firmly onto the flat surface of the wall above us, his palms pushing against the unknown entrance covered in plain sight.

I sort of gawked at the way the square, steel door groaned in protest at being pushed from its place, the rustic appearance of its iron sounding out a series of squeaks and rattling as if the alloy was being moved for the first time after so many years.

The lid had eased itself forward into the ceiling, unhooking itself from its wall and croaking open to reveal a sliver of pale moonlight that sunk its way through the small cracks of the entrance, a ray of light flooding through the dark fluorescent glow of the tunnel.

And with one swift nudge of Harry’s hands, the steel door flung itself outwards and revealed the night shade of the sky, a flutter of leaves and tree bark surrounding the square entrance in a flurry of orange, red and copper brown, the seasons of Fall evident in the area surrounding the now open door to this bloody underground club.

Wait.

Speaking of the _club ..._

Where the hell was it’s owner?

I was spewing words out of my parted lips before my mind could catch up with what I was speaking out loud. “Wait! Where is Krum? Is he okay? This is his club. _Oh gods,_ all his customers are dead and his business has gone to shite!” My words were shrill with worry, eyes wide as they followed how Harry simply ignored my bout of sentences to come prowling towards me with a cool set of his features showing nothing that could place an emotion on, the dark of his eyes glowing in the dim light of both the moon now shining down on us and the lights of the underground tunnel.

Harry’s obsidian chipped hair fell unruly over his eyes as he knelt his head down and towered over my figure, the jade of his gaze piercing through the fine tremor of my body, my breath stilling as the assassin nudged his head up and towards the open entrance with a raise of his dark eyebrow, mocking and cruel. “Stand right beneath it. I’ll help you up since you’re short, _Princess._ ”

All this hysteria playing inside of both my mind and body, made me not think twice when I gave Harry a look of offended outrage, any logical thought to keep any emotion masked on my own face thrown out the window when I was dealt with such an _insult_ coming from Harry. Crossing my arms over my chest, I scuffled my left foot against the dirty ground in a fit of abrupt brattiness that could only be reasoned for being a result from the damn Gryffindor disregarding my question. “I am _not_ short. And you didn’t answer my question!”

Harry, the bastard, walked around my stern figure to shove the heat of his hands behind my back and cause me to stumble forward and right beneath the open entrance directly above my head, my arms disentangling themselves from the off balance of my feet as I huffed out indignantly at the audacity of everything.

I just watched Harry murder a mass group of people and creatures.

He won’t answer a simple question.

And …  he doesn’t want to do anything with me since, for some reason unbeknownst to me, I would end up hurt.

_Fuck._

Okay. I was losing my grasp on sanity and wasn’t thinking straight now.

I’m supposed to behave and get the fuck out of this place!

Before I could whip my head around to see what the hell Harry was doing, I let out a squeal that seemed to ricochet off of the stretching walls of the tunnel, the sound surprised and laced with undercurrent of a heated gasp when I felt warm, large hands, curl themselves beneath the curves of my arse.

I whipped my hand sideways and down to stare, cheeks reddened with mortification, at Harry grasping my arsecheeks in the span of his hands to carelessly push them up against my bum, the motion fast and filled with an easy strength that caused my stomach to dip ferociously with a flutter of electricity, finding my feet being lifted up and off of the floor, the tips of my toes brushing across the earthy ground.

My heart was hammering so profoundly in my ears, that I could hear the echo of the fast beatings of my organism in my head, my eyes large and skin flushed when I sat precariously in the curve of Harry’s hands that held me up by my bum.

“Grab onto the ledge of the entrance and heave yourself up when I give you a push.” Harry’s words were rumbled out loud, the hot and heavy tone of his voice catering to a severe drawl that made my groin thrum in attentive, bubbling heat.

Staring up at the entrance, I gave a nod in assent to Harry’s words and he took that as a go ahead since the next thing I knew, I was being pushed up with an effortless shove that made my frame jolt and bounce up in fast succession.

I snapped my hands up above my head, reaching for one edge of the steel door entrance with a dig of my fingertips into the old iron, but it really wasn’t necessary with how much of a push Harry gave me since my head came popping on out of the square door a moment later from his shove, my hands only helping me find a grounding object as I came basically hopping on up out of the entrance. I simply had my knees come out into the open air from Harry’s rather strong and easy push, causing me to immediately bend my knees and collide them with the forest floor outside of the door, discovering my figure out of the tunnel and into the thicket of trees and leaves surrounding me.

Harry was already up and out as well, closing the rustic steel door shut as he turned to me, the silvery strands of the moon’s light slinking through the decaying leaves hanging off the tree branches high over our heads and spreading out over Harry’s fit body, the hue of his eyes peering at me through the strand of his unruly, shadowed hair. “Get up, we have to walk a mile and a half from here to get to my motorcycle.” The assassin’s voice was filled with a void, a deep murmur that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up on end in awareness and heat.

Harry probably knew that I was slowly losing any semblance of mental control.

I knew I was.

I wanted to hyperventilate and have the panic attack I had to keep on lock down since everything that occurred recently.

Sucking in my lower lip, I looked up at Harry from beneath my lashes, inhaling a shaky breath to calm myself down as I pushed myself up on the flat of my feet and gave the Gryffindor a soft “Okay” in response.

The fact that Harry was calm helped ease the nerves away from my inner turmoil from all the fuckery that just happened.

And ... huh? Did I hear Harry right just now?

“A m-motorcyle? You have one?” My voice came out stunted and covered in genuine surprise, the simple thought of Harry owning a motorcycle causing my chest to rise sharply as a bundle of warmth cascaded down my back in anticipatory anxiety.

Harry’s lips twitched, as if he had the urge to smile at the open curiosity of my statement, but he didn’t give it away from the neutral line of his cupid bow shaped lips as he started walking away in the direction to my left, ushering me to follow him with a grunt my way.

I fell in step beside him, the soles of my feet crunching across the rotting leaves as I smelled the crisp scent of fresh, cool air, my skin lighting up with sensational energy at the given scent of the forest atmosphere coveting the whole of my person.

I haven’t been outside in a while.

Harry swished his hand out into the air abruptly, making me tilt my head sideways in fixated bafflement as I watched within a blurring second how Harry’s clothes changed and from the chill disappearing from my once exposed back from the outfit I wore during the whole night, I looked down to see that my apparel had changed as well.

I couldn’t help but stare at Harry though.

Tripping over my own two feet, I felt the heady prickle of heat gather in the center of my abdomen as I quite literally felt the skipping of my heart slam soundly against my rib cage with a terrifyingly harsh pound, my teeth releasing the bottom of my lip from its nervous clutch as my gaze took in the assassin standing beside me.

Harry wore fitted ripped black jeans, the tears of the fabric showing off the smooth skin of his knees, the material stretching comfortably across the flex of his thigh muscles and the tense of his strong long legs, pairing the jeans off with equally black combat boots. The jeans hung off the sharp dips of his hips, displaying the dark patch of hair that trailed down to his groin hidden beneath the pants, peaking slightly above the waistline in tantalizing sex appeal.

The top the Gryffindor wore was made up of a charcoal colored tank that dipped low at the open sleeves on the sides to display the hard flesh of his corded, lean muscles. The shirt allowed Harry to reveal the long, sinuous power of his biceps, his collarbones displayed and making my cock twitch enthusiastically at the sight of the man. Harry also wore a dog tag around his neck, his skin more exposed than I’ve ever seen of it.

Oh so alluring and dominant in the intimidating presence he emitted.

_Bloody fucking hell._

Harry’s broad shoulders were magnetic to stare at, my brain taking a nosedive into an imagery containing the blunt of my nails clawing away frantically at his tan skin, scratching over the muscular line of his back and shoulder blades as I gasped and writhed brokenly from being fucked into oblivion by Harry’s fat cock-

“Close your mouth, _Kitten._ Don’t want to catch flies now, do we?” Harry’s voice was dripping with taunting crude sin, bringing me out of my daze of perverse thoughts as my cheeks inflamed. I sputtered on the spot and forced myself to whip my eyes away from the assassin’s red green glow of a gaze to catch sight of my own appearance more closely.

I choked on my own saliva.

My mouth parted in shock and shame.

_What the hell is this!?_

I was clad in a black and white plaid mini skirt, high waisted as it went skin tight around the circumference of my tiny waist and flared out over the plump of my bum, the bottom of its skirt spanning out just at the top of where the start of my upper thighs and my arse met.

I felt my skin turn crimson at the cool air that slipped its way up between the fine tremor of my exposed thighs and over what felt like lace panties covering my prick. Garter belts, shimmering in the midnight shadow of its black color curved diagonally down the slope of my arsecheeks to hook its silver clasp at the intricately lace designed onyx stockings, letting my pale skin peek through the spaces the sheer fabric introduced around my thighs and legs.

The top I wore was a long sleeved black one that had a low dip in the neckline, the fabric coming off my shoulders to cinch around the sides of my upper arms, showcasing the sharp lines of my collarbones. The bottom hem of the top reached exactly where the hemline of my skirt stopped a little above my belly button.

I still had on my combat boots though.

“Harry! Why am I-I-I wearing this?! I look-this is-oh _bloody_ hell.” My breaths came out fast, my insecurities getting the best of me from showing so much of my body and skin, a panic settling high in the cluster of my throat as the notion of disappointing my mother from what I was wearing invaded my thoughts.

I look like a whore!

I can’t pull this off!

_Narcissa is dead._

_She doesn’t rule you anymore. You can wear whatever you want._

Harry’s crimson eyes were an illuminate red in the dark of the forest as he slid that cruel and wicked gaze of his over to my figure to glance over the tensed line of my body in a slow observation, my mind fizzing out at the almost visible scorching touch of Harry’s eyes skating over the bare of my skin as his stare lingered over my shoulders, stomach, hips, the flare of my skirt over my bum and the long stretch of my legs.

I felt my heart lodge in my throat as I waited for Harry to respond.

And as quick as he looked at me, his gaze was off of my figure and back to facing the forest in front of him, the succulent curves of his mouth barely forming around the rasp of his low words as he spoke out to me. “We’re in Kamakura, Japan. When we get to my motorcycle near the road that's supposed to appear soon here, we’re going to head off to Tokyo where a good friend of mine lives. He throws parties every night. You need to look the part of a young, pretty gay boy since everyone who attends the parties are homosexual. You need to blend in and with this appearance, well, it's really the only way to get into the party since my friend doesn’t allow those who don’t dress up into the event. Everyone is dressed to the nines in that party so us showing up at the place all bloodied and gross would catch their attention and we don’t need that cause it could notify wizards around the area who are affiliated with Animadverto if we cause a scrutiny.” Harry’s voice was a deep drone like mumble, as if his thoughts were elsewhere as he explained to me the reason why I had to dress like this.

_We’re going to Tokyo._

I’m wearing such exposing clothes.

_Fuck._

Harry continued on with more of his low words in the eerie silence of the forest as we trudged on through the trees and leaves beneath the navy blue of the shimmering night sky above us. “That’s also where Sirius, Caetia, Granger and Weasley are waiting for us. And on the subject about Krum, you just need to know that he’s with his wife in New Orleans right now. I sent a magical telepathic link to him before everything happened and told him to get out immediately, which he did. He’s going to be sad about what happened with his club but he has to deal with it. I’ll help him make a new one later. As for answering the other questions I know you’ve been dying to ask me, that’s going to have to wait until we get to my friend’s place.”

Chewing on the insides of my cheeks, I let out a huff in response to Harry’s words, an itching sort of burn beneath my skin starting to formulate as the weariness of everything happening around me started to weigh heavily down on my mind, causing mingling emotions of dread, arousal, shock and confusion inside of my head.

I’m surprised I’ve been holding my shit together up until now.

This was _a lot_ to take in.

The only thing I could think of to do at the moment, was to stay by Harry’s side and follow the assassin to our destination, my skirt ruffling about across the sensitive skin of my bum cheeks and my eyes resisting the urge to wander towards Harry’s person so I could end up gawking at him.

I seethed in my frustrated anger and embarrassment as well as the perplexity I fell under when it came to Harry and the events that unfolded just moments ago.

_You’ll get your answers._

_You’ll break down in a couple hours._

_And then you’ll pick up the shattered pieces of yourself all over again like that time after the war._

This was going to be a long night.

Feeling the soft wind pick up and sweep around my _very_ exposed figure, I resisted trying to huddle in closer to Harry's warmth to prevent myself as being seen as even more of a damsel in distress than I already was. And I was going to get nowhere near the man with these damn clothes!

Why the hell did Harry conjure up an attire with such very little fabric for me!?

This outfit was downright _obscene._

_Fuck._

 

 


	10. Asphyxiate: A Fissure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! I had to cut this chapter in half because it was so looonnnnggg. I felt like your minds' would have fried from the overload of stuff I dumped in my writing this week for Tenebrous, I surely was haha. So you'll get all that steamy good stuff in the next chapter, just give it time and you'll finally see the tension snap. I promise. I hope you liked this update though because it was so much fun to write and I had to put conflict in it so I can develop Harry and Draco's relationship between one another to a next level. Shit's going to go off in the next chapter and we're going to get all sinfully sexy and emotional too, mmm. Anyway, have a ball with this update! Next update will be on the 27th of June on a Wednesday due to wedding attending interruptions and my updating another one of my stories, so please be patient, you'll get it soon!
> 
> Thank you to everyone reading this story, it means the world to me as always and I am happy to get kudos and comments. Remember! I have a tumblr for my stories: reimcai. 
> 
> Forget me and read on!

 

I fiddled with the hem of the plaid fabric of my mini skirt, the tips of my trembling fingers shifting restlessly across the downy material that waded around the upper soft skin of my shaking thighs. The fine silver sheen of the moon spilled across the gleaming jet black color scheme belonging to the Harley Davidson motorcycle perched in its dark glint of obsidian hue steel, the milky froth of the moon’s light catching the sleek, powerful, and dangerous machine.

There was a high pitch shrill ringing in my ears with the heady rush of a buzz filtering in through the caverns of my head, humming inside of my mind and causing an electrical current of oncoming anxiety and exhilarated warmth flooding my system, my fingers twitching over their light grasp across the bottom of my skirt.

Something sharp and _scorching_ had dropped into the pit of my gut, nestling and festering there to create a play of prickling energy that made my groin embarrassingly throb beneath the contours of my dress.

My breaths were coming up faster from beneath the awning of my chest, heaving with oxygen that I inhaled with a quick draw of the purse of my lips, eyes drawn to the vehicle tilted sideways the slightest bit from the kickstand it rested upon, the asphalt of the road old and worn out with its fading markings.

I stared at the motorcycle with my eyes wide, stricken and cautious as I spoke around a hiss of nerves to Harry who was already starting towards his bike with long strides, easy and lazed back with an intoxicating confidence that made my skin prickle with heat, the shadow of his unruly hair darker than the steel of the bike but complimenting the foreboding sense of dominance the vehicle emitted. “I am _not_ getting on that … that _thing_ . What if I fall off, huh? I’ll immediately eat ground and I-I-I’m all skin and bones! I’ll _break._ I’ll bloody well die. And what about my outfit! T-T-The skirt will just lift up and-oh- _fucking_ hell, I’ll be showing e-everything. Change me out of these clothes and perhaps we could find another-r way to get a ride.”

Harry completely ignored my rant by simply throwing his leg up and over the onyx seat of the bike and settling back against it with a roll of his shoulders, the muscles shifting and becoming prominent from beneath the material of his top as it stretched over the taut of his fit back. Harry watched me from under the smooth and silky strands of his tousled ebony locks, the unnerving glow of his jaded and crimson eyes peering at me with a hooded stare that made me feel flayed and picked apart, my body releasing a shudder at the predatory focus Harry procured upon my figure.

The handsome sharp lines of his features were in more of a defined set with the way his jaw ticked as if working with a strain he couldn’t contain and mask enough, the set of his provocative lips in a line of neutrality that made the indifference he shown unsettling and _thrillingly_ heated.

My mouth parted in the most quiet of a wet gasp when I found myself standing still as my eyes tracked the movement that Harry made next, his motion slow and deliberate as he kept his brilliant gaze on mine.

Harry rose the right of his arm up to bend it at the elbow, resting the bottom of his forearm across the black steel handle of his bike with a sadistic sensuality that caused the tank of his top to rustle over the cords of his hard rock abs, the veins in this biceps and triceps flexing with the minute movement. Harry lifted the left of his foot to snap it back and have it hit the kickstand of the bike so it could hook back up to the bottom side of the motorcycle, the assassin’s foot settling back down as the bike tilted towards my direction, stopping the vehicle from toppling over with the sole of his booted foot pressing against the ground for leverage. Harry lifted his other leg to let his other foot place upon the footrest of the bike, calm and collected and filthy in the way he raised the dark of his brow up at me.

Harry Potter was a fucking _sin._

“This is my motorcycle. It’s called Thanos, you know, like from Avengers?” Harry’s voice was dipped low in the deep of his husky timbre, making my heart slam painfully against my ribcage as I bundled up the fabric of my skirt and entangled it with my nervous fingers, aroused at the sight Harry displayed and the bike he owned.

I flicked my tongue out of my bottom lip, feeling my mouth dry as I stared at the Gryffindor before me, realizing that the man decided to ignore my rambling and instead, speak about how he named his bike after a _villain_ from a Muggle comic movie series! Thanos was also the shorter name term for “Thanatos”, derived from Greek mythology as the personification of death and morality.

The name fits the motorcycle's appearance.

And it also morbidly accentuates Harry’s dark personality and preferences.

I gave out a huff of air as I bit down on my moist bottom lip now and spoke around a petulant murmur, the breeze of the forest night sweeping across my figure, running up my naked thighs and in between them to flutter over my lace covered arse and prick, causing me to shift on my two feet to try and wriggle away the invading touch.  “Of _course_ you’d name your bike after a world wide known criminal from a muggle movie and the very embodiment of death itself from Greek myth. Now that we got the name of your bike out of the way, can we find another way to-”

Harry let out a rumble of a hum, making me cut off my own words, the sound harsh and wicked as it sunk into my abdomen and shook my body from inside and out, my frame giving a subtle jolt at the sound as I felt a rush of heat gather more in my gut and spread out over my lower half, the Gryffindor’s voice resonating around the forest surrounding us and the silent, deserted road. “No. What you’re going to do is spread those long legs of yours and straddle the seat in _front_ of me. You can grab the bottom curve of the handles while I guide the bike from the hand grips.”

Oh … _fuck._

I would be sitting in front of Harry, where my bum would be pressed up snugly against the assassin's groin where he would have his legs settled on each side of my parted thighs.

My skirt was bound torise up because it’s so bloody short!

And I’ve never been on a motorcycle, let alone one named after things that are considered _bad._

I’m going to die. Mentally and physically.

I couldn’t help the flush that spread out over my neck and up my cheeks as I started shaking my head vigorously, the mess of my pale hair whipping across the skin of my forehead and cheeks as well as my neck from how hard I shook my head, my heart thudding violently against my chest as I tried to keep the sudden erratic bursts of my breath calm.

“No.” I wanted to slam my body against a brick wall from the pure _whine_ bubbling up and out of my throat as the tone of my voice came out anxious and bratty, my cheeks burning even more as the swift of my pouting attitude got the best of me and came forth into the open.

Harry tilted his head, the strands of his dark hair splaying out across the smooth, bronze skin of his forehead as he looked at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher for the life of me, so emotionless and _cold._ “Get on.” The Gryffindor’s voice was blunt and rasped with heavy command, his words final and leaving no room for argument as he penetrated my skin with the contrasting colors of his eyes.

_Godsdammit!_

My body, the traitor that it was, had a mind of its own. From one second to the next, I found my feet shuffling about in an awkward jilted walk towards “Thanos”, my brain short circuiting from hearing Harry's simple demand that the whole of my frame seemed to follow without a given thought. The skin on my arms heated up as I grew closer to Harry and the bike with an anxious chew to my lip and a glower from the pinch of my features to show the irritation and shocked warmth wrecking havoc inside of my body at having not protested as much as I thought I would against Harry’s order.

_Fuck._

Not only because of Harry’s demand that I found myself walking towards the bike he sat on, but I also did what I was told for the mere fact that we were still both in danger from being so close to the club underground and how Animadverto and those Carbonou creatures could be coming after us any moment now.

I needed to suck it up and do as I was told.

But hell, I really didn’t like having to wear something so exposing, as I ride a _motorcycle._ And having to be near Harry for a given amount of time was surely going to make my mind incapable of handling such a thing when I’m so fucking obsessed with the damn assassin!

_Keep it together, Draco._

In a fit of defiance as I approached the bike, I grumbled down at Harry with a purse to my lips evident on my features, annoyed at myself and the situation I found myself in at the moment as well as nervous from the chaos that happened just moments ago and what _could_ happen if I didn’t get my arse in gear. “How am I supposed to sit o-on the seat if you’re taking up the whole space, you big oaf?” My tone came out shuddering in a breathy pitch, destroying my plan to look unaffected by all of _this._

Harry, the damn Gryffindor, had the nerve to simply lean the the whole of his fit frame back the smallest amount and shift so he could leave a little bit more room for me to sit on the leather seat that practically was made to accommodate one person, the glowing of his skin letting the light of the moon skitter across the powerful strokes of his biceps and the peak of his defined chest at the dip of his collar belonging to the black tank he wore.

The assassin flicked the blood red of his eyes down to the tiny space in front of him and back up to my face, releasing a deep murmur that rioted within my chest as he spoke with a cool countenance. “That should do.”

_Bastard._

There weren’t even any helmets!

_As if Harry would let anything happen to you. He fucking massacred many tonight to protect you. You don’t need a helmet when the Chosen One can easily cast a spell before you would hit the ground and have you safe._

Sucking in a sharp breath, I tried encouraging myself to get situated on the seat in front of Harry, but before I could, in my moment of panicked movement without realizing what I was doing, it was as if my body decided to take matters into its own hands and I noticed that I had bunched up the material at the front of my skirt and with my trembling hands, lifted it an inch or so up, the fabric running up the bare skin of my thighs before my brain could click onto what action my body was going through.

My face was set aflame.

Looking anywhere but at Harry, I bent the right of my knee, feeling the air kiss the curving underside of my arsecheek and hole with how thin the panties were. I swung my leg over to the other side of the seat, my breaths coming out short and puffy as the ringing in my ears got louder and the heat on my face burned brighter, the cage of my ribs expanding harshly when the leather seat of the motorcycle rubbed up against the flesh that met my groin to my thigh, making me squeak out at the odd thrilling sensation.

My back was arched into a delicate bow as my mouth popped open to emit a high whimper of surprise when I felt the familiar pair of Harry’s warm, large hands grip onto the sides of my hips and bring me down fully onto the seat, plopping my bum precariously over the leather, my whole frame shivering in the face of my anxiety at having to be on such a dangerous … machine as well as having Harry _touching_ me.

But the assassin didn’t stop his manhandling of me anytime soon.

Harry dug the blunt of his nails into the skin of my hips, grinding them into the jut of my bones cruelly enough to cause a sound of distress to leave my gaping mouth. It was as if Harry had been _waiting_ for me to make such a mortifying noise since he immediately flicked his wrists with an easy tug on my hips and brought my arse sliding across the seat of his bike right after he heard my discouragement. He pressed my bum flush against his groin, the burning of his large cock an unmistakable bulge that fitted in between my cheeks only a scant bit over the fabric of my skirt that flared out over the seat.

“Y-You don’t have to pull me e-every which way like I’m a bloody p-puppet, Harry!” My voice rang out loud and clear, shaking in its tone as my prick rose up from beneath my skirt from the energy running down the length of my spine in heavy doses.

“You were taking too long.” The hot brush of Harry’s breath playing over the cool skin of my neck right below my left ear had made me give a spasm of shock and brutal titillation, my breathing picking up its pace as the pulse in my cock ticked in time with the quick tandem beat of my heart.

Harry moved in closer, pressing the hard of his abdomen right up against my back, my body consequently being shoved forward and drug up the seat of the leather at the impact of the warmed, muscled body of the assassin's crowding in one me and attaching itself to the arch of my back like Harry was trying to mold himself _into_ me.

I watched, my mind dizzying in perfunctory inappropriate haven, with the large of my eyes at the bulge of Harry’s lean muscles in his arms straining and tensing as he reached around me from both sides with his hands. He gripped my wrists with his long fingers, wrapping his hands tight around them, and bringing them up to nudge my limpet hands over the bottom of the handles belonging to the bike.

_Hold on to them._

I obeyed Harry easily without him even having to speak his demand out loud.

My brain had officially sizzled out.

_Harry is pressing against you._

Ohgodsohgodsohgosohgods!

“Are you ready?” Harry mumbled out in a low grumble, his breath fanning across my neck's flesh like a teasing caress.

I nodded dumbly in response, trying to wrap my mind around what’s happening.

Harry settled his grip over the motorcycle handlebars, the motion causing my body to rock forward as I squeaked lightly from watching the assassin simply twist the handle and cause an immediate purring rumble to come to life within in the motorcycle beneath me, the engine starting with an uproar that made my skin break out in goosebumps.

My clutch around the bottom of the handles turned into sudden death grips when Harry, without any warning, shot the motorcycle forward, making me jerk with the action as well as have my arse bumping up against the Gryffindor’s clothed covered cock, my mouth dropping open wide at the all encompassing feeling of wind whipping against my cheeks and blowing back my hair as my gut swooshed with heat at the nudging appendage between my skirt clad arsecheeks.

_Holy hell._

On instinct, I pushed my back flat against Harry’s front, snuggling myself up against him and unconsciously wiggling my arse back so I could practically help Harry melt into me, my heart hammering widely against my chest as we both sped down the deserted road, passing tree by decaying tree with the cool air ruffling my skirt about and the engine becoming a thunderous murmur beneath me.

When Harry turned left, causing the bike to lilt sideways, my breath whooshed out of me in frantic exhilaration at the notice of my body moving along with it, my right hand snapping off of the bottom of the handle to reach back with a hyperactive tendency and searched, within a millisecond, for Harry’s knee so I could ground myself with the knowledge of someone here _with_ me during such a dangerous situation.

Harry made me feel safe despite the brutality he eluded.

And the Gryffindor seemed to know this with the way he reacted. When I grabbed his knee and made my back bow like a rubber band with my bum squirming further against Harry’s hot cock unintentionally, my groin throbbing in adrenaline coveted arousal, the assassin’s chest shook with a subtle _growl._ The sound reverberated around the whole of my frame, low and etched in dripping animalistic cruelty that caused me to claw my nails into Harry's jean clad knee, a small gasp leaving my mouth at the sinister, inhumane noise he let out.

Maybe my mind made up that sound just now?

Why would Harry be growling?

With the motorcycle rushing across the road as trees started to disperse around us, the area in front of me started to reveal the twinkling lights and skyscraper buildings with bustling cars that could only belong to bloody _Tokyo._

I tried reigning in the _need_ to rub my arse back against Harry’s cock, my heart thrumming hard as I held very still in an attempt to keep myself immobile from grinding over the assassin’s prick.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck._

And it didn’t help that the consuming, inebriating scent that Harry carried around with him, filtered around the entirety of my person along with the smell of the fresh air surrounding me, the Gryffindor’s warmth making my skin prickle with attention and _want._

_You’re so into Harry._

_A man who you can’t have and never will._

_Harry probably lied to you about liking you just to toy with your feelings. To get you to trust him enough so you could let him punish you just to make_ the _Draco Malfoy, a brat, learn his lesson._

I pressed my lips together, chewing on the insides of my cheeks as my body swayed to and fro with the turning motions of the motorcycle, taking both comfort and cautiousness in being near Harry for such a long time.

_Stop it._

_Harry likes you._

_He said so. And you saw what happened when he was making you come. The assassin grew darker and more sinister. He said he could kill both of you if you got too close._

I needed to know _why_ Harry and I couldn’t be physically together.

Harry pressed onto me further, making me release a harsh breath as my back curved even more from the man leaning into me, blanketing me and keeping my body warmed.

I grappled at the Gryffindor’s knee some more to keep myself grounded, not wanting to wander off into the jumbling mess of my mind.

Lights, neon colored and brightening up the large long strips of the crowded roads around us, were speckled everywhere across the area. I took in the whole city of Tokyo, buildings upon buildings practically conjoined with one, the whole place lit up with varying colors of hot pink, red, blue, similar to that of the brightened film of a rainbow, dotting certain spots across the lively capital of Japan. Foreign languages shown across large screen frames plastered to the towering buildings as people of all different shapes and sizes crossed the active streets with shopping bags, handbags, suitcases, purses, totes, and backpacks.

And as Harry wound his bike through the lines of awaiting cars in traffic, I could feel my face heat up from hearing unmistakable cat calls as we passed groups of middle aged men and women that were out and about having a drunken night or simply showing their enthusiasm for what I wore as the momentum of the bike speeding up caused my skirt to ruffle about wildly over the exposed skin of my thighs.

For some reason, my skirt didn’t flip up like it should have in this wind.

Harry must have mentally conjured up a spell that kept my clothes from showing my boy parts. I obviously couldn’t use magic and the skirt would have already shown the world my lace covered prick and arse from the gust of air the motorcycle sped through with a smooth trek without having magic playing a part in all this.

Speeding down the bright and abundant city, my heart racing a mile a minute with every minute shift of of Harry’s lean and muscled body pressing against the delicate curve of my quivering back, I held onto the bottom handle and Harry’s knee with a biting grip, watching the roads start to spread out more into different directions as the city started to drown out behind us.

Harry turned right, up a spacious road that was quiet compared to the chatter and revving car engines from the main part of the city behind us. Large, flat roof coveted mansions took up at least three acres of the extensive area we drove through. Most of them were covered in tall floor to ceiling glass windows that towered high into the sky, displaying the intricate and lush furniture inside the modern, high class houses.

The sight of the mansions were breathtaking in their thorough cream, matte black and, granite or marble appearance.

Harry drove up an incline that had the mansions putting more space between them, my gaze wandering over to central Tokyo behind us with a slight twist of my head to catch its twinkling lights and the whole view of the towering business buildings of the city.

Looking back at the front of me, I gasped when Harry made a sharp turn left and back up with the bike lilting sideways in fluid transitions, my chest heaving with excited, nerve wrecked adrenaline as the frame of my body came within a few feet from the ground at the easy tilt of the bike with Harry’s effortless handling of it.

Trees started to gather up around us once again as we trailed up the slope of the mountain, my thighs tensing and relaxing around the machine between my legs, the leather already heated up and sticking to the soft skin of my thighs to create a sort of sticky sensation that made my skin prickle with vibrations from the engine, my breaths fast and covered in simmering heat.

I was starting to like “Thanos”.

And I was soaking in the simple touch of Harry pressed up against me.

When I felt the straining of my back start to loosen and my frame go slack from the sudden burst of euphoric calm that overtook my body, my ears started to pick up the familiar sound of heavy bass thrumming closer and closer as music started to filter in around both Harry and I, the motorcycle taking another right to reveal a mansion that was at least three times larger than the ones below us just moments ago.

A bundle of cars were parked all the way from where Harry and I started to drive. The narrow gravel covered floor took up a few yards from the looming mansion that had no glass windows and had a multiple triangular roofs. People were found walking aimlessly and talking animatedly among themselves through large groups that dotted the front of the mansion with alcohol in their hands and smiles spread wide across their flushed faces.

Various vehicles were parked through every imaginable space that the forest allowed around the mansion before us.

Harry parked a few feet away from the house to the side and into the beginning of the fall trees, my gaze stuck on the huge mansion that hummed with lively music, deep and upbeat in its tone as its sound slipped through the open front Italian wooden doors of the mansion. A ruby red light spilled out of the entrance and the cracked covered windows, revealing the neon fluorescent lighting from within with a few purple streaks combined with green.

I could hear people cheering, yelling, and releasing boisterous noises within and outside of the creamy peach marble covered mansion.

This surely was a party.

I jerked on the spot when the purring of Harry’s motorcycle died down and left me tingling from its repercussions that started from the curling of my toes and to the tip of my buzzing head.

Harry was off of the bike and placing the kickstand back into place to keep Thanos from tipping over in a blink of an eye, the warmth of the assassin gone from my cooling body and the scorching touch of his hard chest absent over my back.

Blinking up at Harry from where I was perched upon his bike, I released a shaky breath, taking in the messy strands of the Gryffindor’s dark hair and the way the man looked like a slinking panther as he slipped his hands into the front pockets of his jeans with an intimidating cool indifference, the cords of his muscles shifting in the lazy movement he made, all composed and carnal in his dominating presence.

I lost the ability to speak at the sight of the assassin.

Harry nudged his head to the front of the house, the glow of his peridot and mauve gaze watching me as he spoke in that deep, emotionless drawl of his voice, my stomach dipping with a current of energy at the sound of Harry’s words. “I had to command you to sit on that bike and now you seem to not want to get off of it. What an odd Kitten you are.”

My brows furrowed in swift shame and irritation at the way my body reacted so quick to Harry and his words, realizing how weird I am for complaining so much about getting on the motorcycle and the later on having become a downtrodden wanker at the thought of parting from the bike. Of course Harry had to point that out.

With a heaving breath, I whipped my gaze away from the Gryffindor, swinging my right leg over the side of the bike to hop on off of it and onto the ground with obnoxiously weakened limbs, my knees knocking together in a quick succession from the sudden energy drained away from my legs.

Oh fuck.

_Squeezing the life out of the motorcycle while it was running surely would put a strain on your legs._

_And all the nervous, heated adrenaline throughout the whole ride must have made your body worn out by the end of it, like a downfall from a high._

Sucking on the skin of my lower lip, I brushed my hands over the plaid of my skirt, trying to get my legs to work once again and gain enough strength to move as I tried fixing my messy appearance from the bike ride and the chaotic strands of my hair, letting the blood flow back into my limbs. “Right, w-well, let’s go.”

Harry let out a snicker, his lips curling up at one corner to reveal an uptick of mocking amusement as he walked passed my figure and stared towards the front entrance, his posture carrying a lazy rapaciousness.

Grinding my teeth together to keep myself from whining out at the sight of Harry’s back muscles moving deliciously beneath his tank, I had to jog to catch up to Harry’s long strides with my own, the tips of my boots scuffing across the gravel walkway as I huffed out in my usual Malfoy manor.

I was not going to think about how I was dressed and how there were a bunch of people who wore even less clothing and could see the bare skin on my body.

Nope. Not going to think about it.

Walking up the front marble steps of the mansion, Harry entered the foyer, my stumbling steps following from beside him as I tried to catch up to the damn Gryffindor, the large of my eyes turning into comical proportions as I took in the red fluorescent lighting playing across the shimmering black granite of the floor, a spiraling staircase etched in the sleek stone as it reached the second open level space of the mansion.

People swarmed the space from each nook and cranny of the house, dancing above us to the bass of the music, sensual and sultry in its tones as they breathed in each other’s sweat and rubbed over one another’s skin, chest to chest and groin to groin, arse grinding back against the front roll of someone’s rolling hips.

The level above us was decked out in purple neon lights connected to the corner of the walls that stretched on for quite a while.

The rooms to my left and right were also filled with people nodding their heads to the consuming, sinful voice of the singer ringing loud through the surround sound speakers, beverages sloshing about and splashing across the pristine floor as soft moans and groans with laughter and conservative talk echoed throughout the whole of the mansion.

I didn’t know where the kitchen was.

Probably in the far back.

And when I looked back up at the second floor level of the mansion, my eyes caught, to my utter disbelief and embarrassment, a peak of stripper poles, gleaming and shimmering beneath the amethyst illumination at the far far back atop of platforms, showing just the slightest bit in my vision since I was still on the ground level of the house and couldn’t quite make out the rest of the area.  

Those were _definitely_ stripper poles, and if I’m not mistaken, flashes of lace covered women and men clad in lingerie peered out over the tops of the gleaming platforms and around the poles from my peripheral view.

Fucking hell.

Taking in a sharp breath, I turned to Harry, opening my mouth to tell the assassin to bring me somewhere else right this moment, but a person came barrelling on through smack dab between the two of us in a blur of cherry kiss red lingerie and black leather stiletto boots, interrupting my protesting words as they ran their polished, acrylic nails up the hard torso of Harry’s chest and around his neck like a _snail._

The person was a boy.

A rather high pitched annoying squeal left the flawless skinned Japanese slim male, the glossy stain of his lips opening wide as he reared his head up and got onto the tips of his high heel shoes and pressed the fat plump of his lips right against Harry’s right chiseled cheek, the sound of his mouth connecting against the Gryffindor’s smooth, tan skin, sloppy and ricocheting in the static abruptly combusting in my ears.

_What. The. Fuck?_

I stared, my eyes taking in the way the mahogany strands of the boy’s hair ruffled about like downy feathers as he smothered his lips against Harry’s cheek while slinking that short curvy, small frame of his against the assassin’s front and practically tried to stick himself to Harry like he wanted to become the Gryffindor's second skin.

The boy was covered in intricate sheer lace, his bum trying to pour out of the thong he wore with his nipples evident against the see through red corset stopping above his belly button, his stilettos going all the way up to the middle of his thighs.

Harry’s emerald eyes were trained on the boy snuggling up to him as I stood, motionless, with my heart plummeting into my gut and my throat closing up on itself with a heavy ball lodged up in my esophagus.

White hot, scathing _anger_ clogged up the nauseous clutter in my stomach, acidic in the working tensed lines of my jaw. I could hear the screeching of my teeth grinding against one another in my effort to keep my rage from spewing out to mask the hurt that throbbed painfully within the my body.

_Why is that boy all up on Harry?_

_Why isn’t Harry pushing the bitch off?_

The boy spoke up above the loud thrum of the music, the chocolate hue of his eyes gazing up at the assassin beneath the fluttering of his dark lashes as a sly smile curled his lips, mischievous and provocative. “I’m happy you decided to come on over and bring your friends! I haven’t seen you for a while, Harry.”

I felt my arms go slack at my sides as Harry responded in kind, the succulent set of his normally neutral lined lips, tipping up into a charming smile, devilish and laced with sensual persuasion that became a magnetic sight and overwhelming in its allure. Breathtaking.

_And that smile was not directed at you._

This is also the first time I’ve seen Harry smile.

What the fuck?

“I decided to visit one of my favorite people in the world.” Harry’s voice sounded out low yet powerful in the noise of the music and people’s chatter surrounding us, my gut dipping sickeningly with dread and anger and _ache_.

As if just realizing that there was another person with Harry, the boy unlatching himself slightly from the Gryffindor's tall, fit frame with a tiny shift. The boy's arms still hooked around Harry's neck as he turned his body in my direction, his prick poking against his panties as he raised a brow up at me. The cocoa shade of his eyes gleamed as he pursed his lips my way and spoke with less enthusiasm then he had when he talked to Harry a couple seconds ago. “Now aren’t you a _pretty_ thing.” The boy’s dark eyes ran down my body and back up in a fast observation before continuing to speak again. “You must be another one of Harry’s friends, Draco right? I’m Kikue, Harry’s friend as well.” 

Being held under Kikue's critical eye made me hunch in on myself as a nervous tremble started at the curl of my fingers. But I still kept the blank character I held onto like glue upon my face.

My mind finally registered what Kikue had said through the thin panic I was enduring at the moment.

_Friends._

_Yeah right._

It looked like they weren’t with the way the wanker hung himself off of Harry.

And he also said that _I_ was a friend to Harry. Nothing more.

But it was the truth though, wasn't it?

Harry and I weren't friends. I didn’t know what the assassin and I were. But most of the time, with the way Harry was so cold to me, he didn’t seem like an acquaintance.

_Fuck this._

Kikue raised his left arm off of Harry to raise his hand in an obvious gesture for a handshake that I wanted to sneer and bite at in retaliation. Harry’s gaze had finally slid off of the Japanese boy to raise the glow of his crimson jaded eyes towards me.

And I kept my own gaze fixated on Kikue, my heart pounding rapidly against my chest as I attempted to keep the calm of my anger and hurt from showing. If I looked at Harry right now, I was going to break down, especially with everything that happened tonight and not having a freak out session yet. With seeing another boy and Harry touch each other, I was going to bloody well _lose_ it.

But being the Malfoy I was raised to be, I became a picture of a proper, formal boy, even if I was in a plaid mini skirt and a top that was equally exposing. I didn’t want to think about how Kikue was far more beautiful than I was.

Raising my hand, begrudgingly so and with a swift movement, I let the sides of my lips slowly raise into a smile smile, the bottom of my lip somewhat wobbling from the strain of keeping myself from cracking the palm of my hand across the pretty boy’s face and dragging my nails over his flushed skin.

Slipping my hands into Kikue’s, I gave a good shake of the sweat slick hand belonging to the dark haired boy’s, before speaking with a polite rasp that could be heard above the pounding music. “Nice to meet you, and thank you for having me here.”

Letting my hand drop away from Kikue’s, I made it apparent about my wanting to leave the presence of the host of this house and Harry with the way I had my eyes trail up to the second level of the mansion, my mouth opening once again to reiterate my intentions as I could feel Kikue watching me with open curiosity. “If you don’t mind, I’ll be leaving your company to search for Caetia.” My words came out breathy and quick but eluding with amicable manner.

I assume if Kikue knew my name from Harry telling him somehow before or after all that murderous mess that happened, the host would know Caetia and the others who were apparated here by Harry.

“Ah, of course. Caetia and the others are upstairs so you can find them there. Have a nice time, Draco.” Kikue spoke politely in response to my own words, his voice airy and dream like with that pitchy like husk he carried around in his tone.

I glanced back at Kikue, trying my damnedest to ignore Harry as I gave the host of the mansion a rather shaky smile, the features of my expression starting to fall off in its mask of indifference as I could make out how close the assassin’s body was to Kikue’s out of the corner of my eyes. “Thank you, it was nice to meet you. Now if you can excuse me …” My voice was starting to shake, but it still held that steely determination in its civil conduct.

I felt the shuddering of my mouth as I twisted quickly around on my booted feet without waiting for Kikue’s response, feeling my face start to crack at the seams with the undeniable inner agony and rage building up in ferocious waves throughout the tense line of my frame.

_IneedtogetawayfromHarryIneedtogetawayfromHarryIneedtogetawayHarry._

Harry surely has made it clear that we could never be together.

Fuck.

_Bloody hell._

I should have stopped liking the damn assassin the moment he told me that he’d kill me if we were to physically get closer to each other. It just took me seeing another boy that harry clearly had sexual escapades with to finally get me to notice that Harry wasn’t mine and I wasn’t his.

_You’re so stupid, Draco._

I was both angry, ashamed, and hurt, most of the frustration aimed at myself for being a stubborn git in my crush for Harry and ending up getting a solid mental slap in the face at the cold realization that my like for Harry was never going to be reciprocated in the way I ached for.

Sprinting up the stairs as I passed the people who loitered on the steps, I walked my way up to the second level, my breath leaving my lungs when I saw how much space the floor took up, almost the size of at least two ballrooms, but with the same granite taking up the area of the ground, although bathed in purple lighting instead of red this time, the music blaring comfortably in the shrill numbing panic settling heavy in the quivering of my bones.

There were strippers dancing and clinging to the poles on the upstaged platforms, people watching them while others danced and dry humped against each other with their clothes on, swaying of their bodies against one another to the rhythm of the music.

I could _feel_ the itching need to sob and tear away at my own skin and hair from all the events that happened tonight catching up to my mental health.

_This is getting too much for me._

_Breathe._

_Breathe, Draco._

_Oh gods._

“Draco? Hey, are you okay? Look at me.” The light delicate pitch of Caetia’s voice broke through the haze of my crashing hysteria, my head snapping up in the direction of Sirius’ boyfriend’s voice as I heaved in a large breath that seemed to sting in the depth of my lungs.

Caetia was clad in black leather short shorts, tight fitted around the slim of his frame with a long sleeve navy blue top that shown the sides of his shoulders in an open oval formation before the material fabricated once again to reach the middle of his fingers, sheer and see through as it shown the curves of his person, chest exposed and walking around with a pair of black high heel boots, the smooth of his white skin on display with a decadent and wondrous mask of subtle makeup.

Quiet gorgeous.

I felt like a bread roll compared to the Caetia’s croissant appearance.

_What the fuck kinds of phrases are you coming up with in this mind of yours?_

Caetia’s dark brows were pushed down in a worried drawl, the purse of his dusky pink glossed lips shimmering beneath the awning of the purple light as he took a step towards me to my right, his right hand raised as if trying to placate a skittish animal.

I realized that the whole of person had hunched forward, my chest rising and falling sharply with my mouth parted to breathe in oxygen that I felt like I couldn’t get enough to stave off of, my chest hollow and the sound of rushed rain catering to my hearing.

I was slowly losing it now.

“I-I … Just ignore me. Uhm, give me a sec-” I squeaked out just as I was about to turn on my heel to face away from Caetia’s openly concerned elfin features, because the next thing I knew, I was being grabbed at my left upper arm by a surprisingly strong grip and swiftly spun around on my boots to stare dumbfounded at the doe like gaze of Caetia’s.

The boy crowded in on me, his stature a little shorter than mine but at the moment, becoming significantly taller in the face of his stern expression, brown eyes flickering over my void filled mask that I tried keeping in place as the set of his lips were pulled into a perturbed frown. “I had time to cry and hyperventilate after that shit show we saw back at Krum’s club. But have you, Draco? Where’s Harry? He should be here to calm you down, he’s actually really good at helping others through panic attacks. Why the _fuck_ isn’t he here with you right now in the state you’re in?” Caetia’s voice came out in a sort of grumbled annoyance, the anger evident from the crease in his forehead as he stared back at me in question.

Christ.

Did Caetia just swear?

I didn’t expect such a thing from someone who looked so innocent with his big, wondrous eyes.

And I didn’t like the concern he was showing me because I _wanted_ it. I wanted someone to actually care about me for once and surely Harry didn’t give two fucks about me since he didn’t follow me after I abruptly left him with his fucktoy downstairs. I wasn’t someone who liked showing weakness in front of others, especially to those I barely knew but I haven’t had anyone to talk to for years after my parents' deaths and it was sort of an odd, invading and unnerving sensation from having someone genuinely be concerned about me.

As usual, I became a bitch in the face of my vulnerability in an effort to cover the my havoc of emotions I was feeling.

I grew more angered for not allowing myself to be open for once and for showing how affected I was from everything that recently happened. I was in contradiction with myself.

I snapped at Caetia then. “I’m fine. Harry is downstairs talking with with that slut of a host he probably fucked before multiple times. And as you can see, he doesn’t care to ‘console’ me at the moment because he doesn’t care about me, he’s made that clear now. I’ll admit that I’m having a small panic attack but I’ve gone through this countless times when I was a teenager so I don’t need your pity or your help and surely no one else's.” My words came out sharp and dripping with venom hissed countenance, my lips curling up to reveal a snark as I stared down at Caetia slightly from the few centimeters of height I had on him. My breaths came out short and rough as I pressed my lips tight together.

I watched Caetia’s jaw flex with a minute click, tensing as he swallowed profusely around an anxious gulp that I caught sight of with the way his Adam's apple bobbed prominently. Instead of backing away from me, Caetia decided to release a small huff of frustration as the hazel set of his eyes ripped away from my narrowed ones, looking down at the foyer and back up to me in a quick motion before speaking with a grit in his voice. “You want to let out some steam? Perhaps you should come with me to dance. And before you deny it, I’m going to say that you’re bloody gorgeous and that outfit you have on is _killer_ , so you won’t need to worry about your appearance because in all honestly, you’re beautiful. Let Harry be a bastard and go have some fun. You don’t _need_ him. And then after we’re done dancing, we can go back to my room and talk about all the shit that happened and I’ll answer some of the questions I know you have about Harry.  But right now, you need to let some of that excess energy out.”

Caetia looked ready to burst out a fucking vein from the way his face turned a ruby red with the rage and irritation he felt at what I told him. But I had a feeling that his anger was directed towards Harry and I, well, I kind of reveled in that. What I _was_ cautious about was the crazy, wide glint in Caetia’s large eyes as he watched me in a fixated determination, his lips pursed in concentration as he waited for my response _too_ eagerly.

_What was this boy planning?_

But what Caetia said was true. I was in jitters, my hands trembling with a source of energy that I couldn’t quite get rid of until I let it out somehow.

Harry can do whatever he wanted.

_Don’t lie to yourself._

_You’re pathetic._

But dancing, well, I mean, I’ve often done that in the lone presence of my apartment where I knew people wouldn't be watching me and I could be myself. To do so in front of bystanders made my hands tremble more in anxiety, although it was a curious, adrenaline drugging sort of nervous perpetuation that stilted inside of me.

I looked ridiculous, but I’m a _Malfoy_ that was raised to both care and give less than two fucks about what people thought of me. My parents were confusing in their commands for me to behave yet do what I wanted if it felt like it was right and do it when the result wouldn’t hurt anyone in the end. I wouldn’t get hurt if I went out dancing in this skimpy outfit, and I surely wouldn’t be putting anyone in pain either, right? Narcissa told me to do what I wanted, but to consider other people and their thoughts about me, and that never really made sense to me for the sole fact about how _fucked_ that idealization was. How could I be myself and not care about what other people thought when at the same time I was supposed to show a well behaved and proper apparel when in public? That never made sense. Doesn’t that show that I was supposed to care about what others thought about me when at the same time I wasn’t?

 _You’re twenty one years old, Draco. It’s time to let go of your parents stupid idealizations and follow what you want to do. Stop rendering yourself from having fun and start doing what you_ truly _want to. Everyone already hates you, so they could give two fucks about what you do now as long as no one ends up hurt._

I want to dance. I want to get lost in my own world for just a moment.

I still don’t believe my appearance is appealing but I’d have to work on my insecurities later. Right now, I needed to step out of my comfort zone and just … _be._

Perhaps I should numb the pain I feel at the moment regarding Harry. Dancing will surely distract myself from the assassin.

_No it won’t._

But I could try to.

Biting down on my lip, I brought my gaze up to meet Caetia's, my heart rioting against my chest in thrilled and fearful apprehension at what I was allowing myself to do.

I’ll have a break down and get my answers later.

Right now, I wanted to have _fun_ and be _stupid._

This was my own Malfoy way, not my mother’s nor my father’s.

With a nod towards Caetia, my voice came out shaking in its exhilarated nerves, tone feverish and ardent, a sound that I rarely shown to anyone but myself outside of the emotionless mask I wore all the time. “Okay. Let’s dance and _then_ we can talk.”

Caetia blinked for a moment, a look of befuddled shock and surprise passing his features briefly before his lips tipped up into a sly grin. “Good.”

I was being tugged by the boy immediately after his fast, impassioned response.

With one last look down to the foyer, I gave a jolt in my frame from having my gaze collide spontaneously quick with Harry’s, the glow of his crystalline red and green eyes peering at me from beneath the hood of his eyes and the strands of his pitch black tousled locks, an indifferent expression on his face. But his gaze … it seared into me and left me staggering on my own two feet as I was being burned by the penetrating set of his harsh eyes. 

I was set aflame from it.

Which made me want to snap out at myself for having my body react so openly towards the assassin.

And I then I saw Kikue chirping away with a blinding seductive curve of his pink strained lips directed towards Harry.

All that anger and hurt and sexual frustration I felt intensified like a spark of fire catching on a dry leaf of a tree to rupture forth and light the forest up with its flickering devour of a scorch.

I did something that I probably shouldn’t have.

I forced my gaze to tear away from Harry’s, my body physically straining and thrumming with worry and dark fear from having every nerve in my system tingle with caution and distress at having turned my attention elsewhere from what felt like a clear demand in the assassin's gaze to keep my eyes on him, my mind and skin buzzing with dread and excited rebellion as I had the audacity to turn from the Gryffindor’s stare with a bratty jut of my bottom lip poking out in my defiant rage.

_You’re going to regret that._

A shot of dark electricity shot down my spine and back up as I turned my back to Harry, the air blowing out of my parted mouth at the sudden covetous sinister air that surrounded my frame in a brush of such an overwhelming heated impression.

Why do I feel as if I did something wrong?

Why am I feeling such … carnal warmth?

_Don’tthinkaboutitdon’tthinkaboutit._

_It’s all in your head._

The back of my head pulsed from the ongoing sensation of Harry's blood red gaze tracking me as I walked away with Caetia pulling me wherever he wanted me to go.

Perhaps my body was making up the feeling of the Gryffindor watching me?

I sucked in a shaky breath. 

_You shouldn't have done that, Draco._

 

 

 


	11. Sanguine: A Rupture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so tired haha, I give you this long ass chapter. I promise there will be smut in the next one, there was just so much going on that I felt like I needed to cut this chapter in half *wipes brow*. I hope you all enjoy and please, leave a comment or ask any questions you have. Next update will be next month on perhaps the second or third week because I've got some stuff to do so I'll be busy, but there will be more! I promise, just give me some time *jumps up and down with excitement*
> 
> Remember to check out my tumblr blog for any updates on my stories and see some inspirations or how my writing progress is going! My tumblr: reimcai
> 
> Go on and read!

_Harry_

 

I can't quite describe this-this absence in the clear countenance that has conquered the shallow end of my conscience thought (both deepening and wading across the tip of a fragment). There's this pity within the hollow cage of my chest, muddling up the walls of my flesh and gauging relentlessly into my cavernous gut.

I don't want it.

I couldn't want it.

What it was … yes – that's what  “it” was. “It” was collected into this sort of closed off chamber that I’ve shuddered and stitched together in deafening silence with these other mentally unstable and shame ridden impressions.

What my want is, was both the air that solidified in scathing thought, limbs, and the inner workings of my stilted nerves.

In the palm of my hand, in the deep suture of the roughened skin where this obnoxious mole covets, is the shaded beginnings of the tracing to my breakage. It is there that I couldn't cover the small tremor, the spec of control shaken and lost in the haze of my desecration, that shown my repression and the somber I've bathed myself in willingly.

My unbecoming was a covet that I had tried to shove violently - yes, viciously – into an obsidian chipped space I conjured on behalf of my own comfort.

At this presence, these annoying and unforgiving grit of integrated conclusions has rendered me, certainly oppressed.

My want is not an aspect that my hands can brush effortlessly away in an attempt to shoulder it past my cavity.

It is floating, unforgiving, and atrocious in my agonized sanity, as I try to make it an acceptance in this beating organism beneath my rib cage. My want is rapacious, and raw, and devastating in its darkened state. Yet it has quaked in its shackles, blanketing my warmth to turn my skin inside and out as the flesh I’ve seemed to have taken solace in has become a charred layer of a sinister countenance, an outer manifestation that has represented the cruelty within my body.

I wanted my destitution, my redemption, without knowing what my “want” could incarcerate.

And what I hungered for, with such brutal obsession, was made up of that “want”.

_You’re going to eat him up alive._

My gaze, heavy lidded and observant, followed down the slim, petite frame of Draco’s graceful figure, the wide width of his hips sluicing from side to side in a subconscious, enticing sway as the long stretch of his stripper legs moved forth and displayed the curvaceous underside of his perky arse. The black, plaid skirt he wore stroked across that creamy pale skin of his, specifically over where Draco’s shapely thighs met his juicy bum.

What a _fucking_ tease.

My eyes trekked up to where the flat of his soft tummy tensed and relaxed beneath the black, long sleeve top I made him wear, an inferno of heat gathering in my gut as my breaths dulled down into a low, weighted drawl in complete and utter _rapture_ at the sight of the pretty boy’s collarbones and soft shoulders exposed to the purple neon lighting swathing his tempting frame in a colorful prominence.

The downy strands of his pale blonde hair was ruffled and in wonderfully chaotic display, the shimmering, pastel white glow of his hair reminding me of a dove’s feathers, all silken and fluffy in its appearance similar to a fall of clustered snowflakes, bright and alluring in its pure color.

I wanted to stain that hair of his, that _skin_ of his, with my own filth, my own _cum_ . I wanted to completely monopolize his fragile frame in a scatter of bursting blue, yellow and purple bruises, and sink the edges of my teeth straight into that supple flesh of his until it left an embedding shape of my mouth _into_ him.

Claiming him.

Branding him as my own.

Draco deserved to be treated with aggressive desire and possessive care.

The pretty little princess had no idea that I’ve been watching him for years, even after having graduated from Hogwarts.

I knew where Draco lived, what he was doing every day, how, when, where and why. I watched Draco strip down the the barest form of his milky flesh as he doused himself in water for a bathing or prepared for work or bed.

He was _clueless_.

I could feel the harsh lines of my jaw click its muscles in a strain as I watched from where I stood in the foyer of Kikue’s house, how Draco practically ran away from me and up to the second level of the mansion.

Kitten’s plump lips parted on an exhale of a skittering breath as he walked with an impatient step through the second level, the enticing cherry pink scheme of his mouth pursing in a display of defiant rage and _hurt_ as the wobbling of his bottom lip poked out the slightest bit and that pretty little wine red flush of his gathered up his slender, long neck and over his delicately defined cheeks.

My cock, half hard since I’ve been in close proximity to the delicious blonde, swelled up further with the rush of warmed blood flooding my groin at the pained and angered expression so obviously shown across Draco’s face.

_Hurt him some more._

_Break him mentally._

_Tear him apart._

_Devour him whole._

It both turned me on and left me nauseous at the thought of causing such pain to the bratty princess.

I wanted to see Draco hurt.

I _wanted_ to see Draco in elated happiness.

I wanted to _see_ Draco writhe in pleasure pained ecstasy as I shoved my cock and filled that small body of his up to the brim with my juice, cream him until my balls slapped and nestled firmly against the sexy slope of his arse. Until he became my very own meat sock where I could ram myself into him and violate the pure beginnings of his very _being._

I was in constant contradiction when it came to Kitten.

_You can’t have him._

_You’ll ruin such a pretty, little thing._

_You’ll love doing it too._

But I didn’t want to _kill_ him. 

There was an irritating spew of words that streamed out of Kikue’s mouth, one after another in annoying giddiness that my ears had sheltered out of my head, leaving a muffled murmur in its wake as I ignored the Japanese boy’s hyper chatter and kept the red green hue of my gaze upon Draco’s figure.

The silver wisps of the brat’s eyes swept across the second floor in bewilderment, before widening at seeing Caetia, the opal almost moonstone glow of Draco’s savory eyes flashing with a wash of emotions made up of anxiety, panic, ache and anger as he talked with my godfather’s boyfriend.

 _I_ did that to Draco.

I made such a pristine and pure thing, so messed up from the inside and out.

I reveled in it.

And those eyes of his … they were the embodiment of a comforting luxury, open and expressive even when the brat tried not to display his feelings out in the open. Such a vivid natrolite, crystalline pale shade that made him look almost blind from the film of a bleached caribbean blue in his gaze. The liquefied substance of the blue in his gaze was tiny but washed lovingly together with the milky froth of his eyes.

Draco was beautifully tantalizing and sexy to the eye, carrying an elegant yet focused presence he held about himself that made others and myself want to slam the cute boy up against the nearest wall and fuck him into a _coma._

I wanted to make him scream and beg and cry for me and only me.

It was unearthly how gorgeous the blonde was, to the point that it was overwhelming and all consuming.

Seeing him bloodied and imprisoned in my hands would be a treasure.

_You can’t touch him too much. You’ll lose yourself._

_All that dark energy will come out and hurt Draco._

Rolling my shoulders back in a minutely shift, I let the quiet hearing charm reverberate with a chant from the inside of my head, echoing forth and non-verbally splaying out into the open as I felt the deep seated sadistic magic I’ve learned to cultivate over years of practice fester from within my stomach and seep out through the pores of my flesh to shoot forward towards Draco and Caetia’s space.

I could hear what they're talking about.

Draco’s voice spoke out from beneath the barrage of the others’ speeches surrounding him, the sound of his quiet malleable words drifting down towards my person with a breathy rasp that reminded me of the sugary, soft yet sticky sensation of cotton candy, like walking straight into oceanic cool waters after striving through the desert without a drop of sweat to spare, refreshing and delightful to my ears. His voice was was soothing and addicting, exactly like his personality. And dark heat slipped down my spine at such succulent sounds escaping the moue of his sinful mouth.

But what he talked about … I didn’t like.

Caetia, that little shite, was luring Draco into _dancing._

All these people were going to see Draco’s arse moving about in synchronization with the sultry music heavily pounding against his pale skin. People were going to ogle at the way Draco’s long legs would be skimmed with a wet sheen while that shoulder length, soft white hair of his got more mussed from moving around too much.

What was Caetia thinking?

And Draco agreed. Just to spite me.

The spoiled brat.

Draco was going to dance and try to keep his mind off of me, I _knew_ this. The way he looked when he saw Kikue practically attaching himself to me gave enough leeway into the Blonde’s thoughts.

Draco was _jealous._

But he shouldn’t be.

Kikue, well, I fucked him a good couple times when I was doing a job in Tokyo for a drug dealing situation near the boy’s home town. He’s not that attractive. And Kikue doesn’t mean shite to me, the sole reason for my association with him  is only to use the boy when I need the help, such as having a place to stay when I wanted one. Kikue was practically a fuck toy to me back then and not a good one either. I haven’t touched anyone since I saw Draco at Blaise’s club anyways.

_You only fucked those boys so you wouldn’t snap and go after Draco._

And it was never satisfying when I fucked others. Sure, I came, but it wasn’t into a pretty little Kitten that I’ve imagined pushing my cock into various times throughout the last two years of Hogwarts up until now. I constantly imagined those that I’ve fucked as Draco.

None of those those people mattered.

Only Draco.

His insecurity was what worried and bothered me though, which I’m sure he felt right now.

There was no need for it.

He’s got the figure of a seductress and is the epitome of enticing desire. His beauty was something that was untouchable with his cute pert, aristocratic nose, creamy skin with a flat stomach, a slim form, and a curvy arse.

Draco Malfoy is everything I’d _starve_ for.

And I have been, for years on end.

And with the way he started to breathe abnormally too fast a little bit ago before Caetia came, it seemed he was going into a panic attack on top of his mixture of emotions.

_Go to him._

_Make him feel better._

_And then break him apart._

I couldn’t stay too close to him though.

 _It_ will just come out and wreck Draco.

_You can control it._

_You didn’t murder the Blonde when you made him come so deliciously with that punishment._

As if on reflex, my hands twitched by my sides, the sensation of Draco’s naked plump bum jiggling beneath the cracking swat of my palm seeming to tingle back alive over the inner skin of my hand at the thought of the kind of punishment I gave the princess before we were ambushed by the Carbonou.

My dick twitched enthusiastically at the sheer memory of it all.

I wanted to do _a lot_ more punishments to Draco.

I didn’t want to take the risk though.

I also didn’t want Draco dancing.

Not in front of others.

As if sensing my eyes on his every move, Draco’s bright gaze shifted down after having the guts to agree with Caetia and his idea of disregarding my person to go dancing, his eyes catching my own as I let a severe command leak heavily through my stare towards the Blonde, feeling my eyes pulsating in that thrumming pain as the crimson of my gaze thickened achingly with profuse  _savagery._

_Don’t look away from me._

_Don’t go off dancing and letting others_ watch _you or_ touch _you._

If I can’t have you, _no one_ can.

A thump of acidic hurt wound its way up the skin of my throat, my teeth smashing together harshly in an attempt to keep the mental and physical pain that pricked beneath my wide chest from expanding and spilling forth out of my emotionless mask.

_You’ll hurt Draco if you touch him. You can’t have him._

_And it pains you that you can’t._

Ah, there it was, the dazed heated interest and caution in the fluttering of Draco’s eyelashes over his hazed blanketed eyes, showing the sudden sweet compliance and obedience in the slackening curve of his downy pink lips for a brief moment in the face of my gaze before blinking hard and causing his pliant surrender to harden visibly.

I watched the way Kitten seemed to shake himself silly to dissipate my demand from his thoughts by jutting out the lush of his bottom lip and swiftly turning his head away from my eyes, the locks of his messy pale hair brushing across the cream colored, ruby stained flush of his cheeks at the quick dismissive motion.

And I saw _black._

 

_Draco_

 

“You want me to put on high heels?” My voice came out in stunted horror, the shrill shriek of my tone echoing throughout the glimmering pink colored dressing room that catered to the hired _strippers_ for the party tonight.

My breaths came out in rapid quakes, tending to both the dawning terrified excitement that flooded my system as my wide gaze stared at the pair of shiny black five inch heels dangling from the swaying manicured tipped fingers of Caetia’s right hand.

_You’re starting to like the heels, the outfits, the sensation of the soft fabric of skirts, or tight fitted jeans and pants hugging around the slim of your legs and thighs._

_It makes you bathe yourself in delighted filth._

_It makes you feel sultry and wrong._

The beating of my heart beneath my rib cage thudded violently against my chest, hot and heavy and inevitable at the sight of the heels Caetia held up for me. My hands, which were currently flicking the bottom hemline of my mini black plaid skirt, lifted subconsciously in a slow raise as I kept the large of my gaze stuck to the high heels in interested befuddlement.

I could make out the tiny amused lift of Caetia’s glossy lips out of corner of my eyes as I brushed the tips of my fingers across the heels of the shoes for a split second before sucking in a sharp breath and letting the whole of my hands pluck at the pair with a quick tug.

They felt like satin against the skin of my palms where I clutched them petulantly tight against my chest.

_Fuck._

I was getting infatuated with these heels and the clothes.

Caetia let out a light laugh from the part of his mouth, a tinkling bell like chime in his tone as the flesh on the corner of his eyes crinkled with a given lightness that made me furrow my brows down at him in annoyed fixation as my lips twitched with the urge to smile placating like.

_It seemed I wasn’t very good at hiding my newfound excitement with feminine shoes and clothes._

But I knew Caetia would be the last one to judge me, given how he stripped for a living and constantly wore these sort of things.

He surely found it amusing that _I_ so obviously shown my interest in such attire.

“Did you dress yourself up?” Caetia’s question caught me off guard, his voice lilting higher in intrigue as he raised a light brown brow up at me, the  fleck of his amber eyes zeroing in on me.

_Harry did this to me._

My lips were left slightly agape as I flicked the slippery appendage of my tongue around the wet flesh of the insides of my cheeks, resisting the urge to bite down on my bottom lip in shameful embarrassment while heat spread up my chest and over the space of my cheeks. “U-Uhm, Harry actually made me wear th-this.” The stutter releasing its way from my throat came out in a mere whisper, resounding against the pastel pink walls around me to bash right back into my frame as if mocking my very existence for the slip of nerves shown through the sound of my anxious and merely mortified voice.

Ugh.

Caetia grinned at me then, his smile spreading wide as he rolled his eyes playfully at my admission, his response to my words coming out exhilarated and endearing. “I figured. You look hot though. And to make you look even sexier, put on the heels and let’s go dancing.”

I didn’t have much enthusiasm to protest, I mean, I figured the boy already knew that I was starting to like all these dressing up situations with the look he gave me when I took the heels away from his hands.

I wasn’t going to admit it out loud though.

With a sharp nod, I blew out a heavy breath from the purse of my mouth, running my tongue over the plump of my bottom lip, easily bending down at the waist as I shoved off my combat boots and slipped on the high heels, wobbling a bit from side to side as I tried to keep my balance in tact from standing on one leg to the next.

Huffing out a sigh, my chest hummed with satisfaction as I twisted my ankle from one angle to the next in open admiration, the shifting of my movements tiny in an attempt to not show the complete fascination bubbling within my gut at the sight of the heels.

They were closed toed shoes, black leather gleaming beneath the fluorescent lighting above my head. Obsidian colored thick lace started a few centimeters away from the tips of my toes and ran up into a criss cross formation to the very top of the shoes at the front, the hemline of the black leather reaching the middle of my shin.

They were cute.

Bloody hell, they felt nice too.

Caetia let out an appreciative whistle, the sound high and loud within the confines of the area we stood in, causing my blush to deepen into dark blood red proportions. “Nice, your legs go on forever, it’s wonderful. You’d make a lot of bank if you became a stripper.” Caetia’s voice seemed to perk up in excitement at the words he just spoke out.

And I immediately shut down _that_ idea. “No way. I’m just starting to get comfortable in my own body as well as showing skin for fucks sake. Becoming a stripper requires strength that I don’t have when dealing with grabbing onto a metal pole for your dear life. I’d be injured, plus, I’m not confident in seduction skills, thank you very much.” My words came out rushed and breathy, an uncomfortable ball of energy settling into the space of my gut with the thought of swinging my legs around without barely any clothes on as I ground myself against a non living object for others’ pleasure.

That wasn’t for me.

_You’d do it if Harry was the only one watching._

Gritting my teeth together, I mentally chastised myself for thinking about Harry at the moment, wanting to slam my forehead against the nearest wall in an attempt to rid myself of the imagery of Harry’s lean, powerful and muscled frame as well as him fucking Kikue.

_He’s probably doing that right now._

“Fine, fine. But I swear you’d make a good stripper. Anyway, let’s get out of this room and go dancing!” Caetia’s enthusiastic words interrupted the cluster fuck of thoughts that ran amok in my head, causing me to nod dumbly in the brown haired boy’s direction absentmindedly as I tried  to hype myself up enough to actually go out and let loose for a little bit before having to go back to reality, find out what Harry was keeping from me, and have a mental breakdown.

Wow.

What a weird plan.

I found myself being tugged once again by the skin of my upper arm, Caetia’s grip tight as he dragged me out of the pink room and back out into the crowd of people gathered together as they moved fluidly along with the low thrum of the music, their breaths harsh and mingling in with one another while others watched the strippers dance on their spaced stages with obsolete fixation and fascinated desire.

Caetia, the git, clutched his fingers harder into the skin of my arm before abruptly pulling me with a simple flick of his wrist and elicited my body to be swept sideways in a half spin straight towards the bundled, sweat slick mass of people, my high heel covered feet stumbling over one another as my eyes widened in a burst of panic when I felt my front collide into a man unfortunately nearest to my clumsy person.

I squeaked out loud from beneath the hum of the music when my chest fell into the man before me, my eyes turning into large alien saucers when I felt the cool wet form of his skin rubbing up against the revealed flesh of my own peeking out from the rise of my top from the sudden shuffle I was put into with my body.

And immediately, I felt the man’s big hands wrap around my hips, the blunt of his fingertips pressing into the fabric of my skirt cinched tight around my petite frame to shove me towards his figure seconds after grasping me in his hands, my vision blurring at the quick, rough movement as I felt a warmed muscular thigh slip up and drag the jean material of the man’s pants along the inner flesh of my thighs, spreading me open with such slick ease that it left me blinking rapidly up the guy who took control of me without any warning.

The man loomed over me, the bugling cords of his muscles defined in the neon lighting gleaming down upon the both of us, the dark forest green of his T-Shirt stretching ridiculously tight over his straining biceps that flexed as the length of his arms winding around my torso forcefully brought me bodily up along his thigh and his chest, my prick brushing across the meat of his leg that punctured between my splayed legs.

I scrambled about in a flailing discomfort, my hands snapping up to push the trembling of my hands flat against the man’s huge pecs as I brought my head up to catch the narrow of my gaze with the burgundy hue of his dark eyes. His hair, a sheen of dirty blonde, was cut short at the sides with long strands at the top, curling into a somewhat military cut.

“Let go”. I hissed out my words with a monotonous drawl, loud enough to be heard over the bass of the music but not to the point where others could hear the simmering anger and distress I felt at having someone I didn’t know _touch_ me.

_Only Harry can do that._

Fuck!

Nononononono!

I’m not supposed to be thinking about that bastard!

_Then don’t._

_Have some fun._

But it’s not all fun and games in the face of my straining displeasure at having some random guy literally try to make me become his personal sex toy on a dance floor.

I just want to dance.

That’s it.

Not with anyone, but myself.

And I was going to get what I wanted-

My thoughts were scattered as my gaze caught sight of two familiar figures to the right of my peripheral view, my mouth slowly parting open on an exhale of a heated, stunted breath as I watched _Harry_ tug _Kikue_ along by the lingerie covered flesh of the brown haired boy’s arse and bring him flush up against the long, lean and muscled, rock hard front of his.

The entirety of my frame went _still._

The bulky man running the skimming of his fingers over my hip bones seemed to notice my sudden rigidity and thought it better to bring my lower half higher up the length of his thigh, causing my prick to perk up at the heavy pressure being laid upon itself inevitably and the sharp rise of my chest as I tried to breathe in quickly from the unwanted presence _there._

But my eyes were still focused on the way Harry’s hair fell into a black curtain over the jaded, blood red shade of his gleaming eyes as he brought the front of his head down slowly towards the upturned neck of Kikue’s and let the cupid bow shape of his lips linger just slightly above the long line of the Japanese boy’s bared throat.

Kikue’s eyes were dazed as he watched the playing of the purple lighting above his head, the red stain of his lips wide open as his chest heaved up and down rapidly while he let his eyelashes flutter about in a sort of hazy bliss. His hips swayed in sensual rolls up against Harry’s pelvis, like a ticking twitch that was oh so desperate and wanting as the assassin didn’t make a move but let the boy grind up on him.

Harry’s large hands that gripped Kikue’s arse, tensed for a moment, the veins beneath his flesh becoming a brief definite protruding strength that made the host’s spine curve back and rub the pert of his nipples over the Gryffindor’s chest, the meat of Kikue’s arse practically spilling through the ironclad grip of Harry’s steel like fingers.

And when I whipped my eyes back up to Harry’s handsome face, I felt a visible shudder of a live wired spark flickering across the tip of my spine, all the way down to my tailbone, the assassin’s pulsating crimson gaze attached to my large eyes as he watched me from beneath his dark lashes and the strands of his unruly obsidian locks.

There was no sort of expression shown across the chiseled and defined set of Harry’s features as he stared at me with his head tilted towards my direction and his lips hovering over Kikue’s pale throat.

Just watching.

 _Mocking_ me.

_You can’t have him._

_Look at Harry’s clear and obvious display of non interest in you. He’s with someone else. He doesn’t want you._

_But he’s also ridiculing you for the_ want _and crush you have on him._

_Harry was just simply punishing you that time for the sole reason of teaching a bratty Malfoy how to behave._

My heart gave a vicious thump against my rib cage then, the ache spreading like wildfire, flooding and setting aflame an _ache_ so cruelly twisting a sharp prick into the sole of my gut and rendering me speechless as a boiling surmise of _anger, hurt,_ and _devastation_ clouded my every logical thought.

When Harry inched his lips closer to Kikue’s exposed, slender neck, his gaze started to slide away from mine with a flash of that magnetizing sadistic shade of ruby turning into a drowning splurge of _wine,_ pure sadistic intrigue flashing in the calm show of his eyes.

Harry was veering his attention elsewhere.

Disregarding me.

Ignoring me.

As always.

After giving me that _taunt_ and brutal jab at my emotions that he bloody well _knew_ of.

Why is Harry doing this?

Kikue, as if to make matters worse, slid his serene cocoa eyes straight towards my person, and a glimmer of sickening glee and teasing satisfaction shown in the host’s eyes while looking straight at me.

Fucking cunt.

I saw _red._

My brain couldn’t quite catch up to my body’s response to the burst of pain and burning rage that festered in a dizzying rush throughout my frame. In a jolting movement of my limbs, I drew myself down the length the man’s thigh that slipped its way between my legs to shove the apex of my right knee straight into the stupid guy’s groin, my action swift and tethered in its weighted push.

The man grunted out in a harsh breath that whooshed over the exposed flesh of my collarbone and shoulders as he hunched in over himself and clasped his big hands over the sore of his jean covered cock, his brows drawing down in confounded pain as the brown of his eyes shifted up to look at me with an obvious spitting irritation. “What the fuck, bitch!?” The man’s voice boomed out over the loud sound of the music, strangled in its tone as it shifted from high to low frequencies while he struggled with the nick of pain I induced in his crotch.

I was not in the mood to act civil.

“I told you to let me go and you didn’t, you fucking prick.” My words were spat out venomously through the clench of my teeth as I sneered down at the down turned blonde head of the man’s, my lips twitching with the amount of anger simmering hot and heavy inside of me.

_He deserved it._

And I didn’t even give two bloody fucks that the guy I kneed was groaning and grumbling profanities beneath his breath as he shifted from one foot to the next to try and alleviate the pain I caused him, no, I simply swept around his large frame and headed straight for Harry and Kikue.

My vision was clouded with an array of purple and red, the colors playing hauntingly in the back of my skull and popping in combustion in front of my eyes that strayed upon the way Kikue kept lifting his leg up like a two time hooker and grounded his pelvis up against Harry’s, his lids closed in utter pleasure at the feel of the assassin’s hard body pressed along his front.

The heels of my shoes clicked beneath the thrum of the music around me, scraping across the granite floor of the area as my stomps ricocheted in the hum of my ears while I barged my way over to Harry and Kikue, my breaths coming out faster and faster as the beating of my heart went up a notch or two in the rhythm department.

I’m going to ruin the host.

And then I’m going to claw at Harry’s eyes.

Yep.

That sounded fantastic.

I knew Harry caught sight of my coming for them, because he’s _Harry_ and a trained assassin, of course he’d know that I was practically barreling my way towards the him and Kikue, but he didn’t move or make any eye contact with me, and I … I didn’t like that at all.

He’s such an asshole!

And he probably didn’t think I would do anything bad, just run away like I often did in the face of his taunting.

Not this time.

On instinct, as I reached the two men, I whipped my hand forward to grasp the mahogany strands of Kikue’s hair through the tight grip of my curling fingers and with a snicker, I immediately yanked the host’s head sideways, hard enough to hear him yelp out in pain as I felt the locks of his hair being almost ripped from the surface of his scalp with the ferocity of my tug.

The bitch started to squeal out in pained countenance as I brought his head so roughly towards my frame that his entire torso tilted sideways and stumbled out of Harry’s grip, the slim of his hands reaching up with a frantic grapple at the wrist that connected with my hand which held his hair captive in an annoyed grit.

I couldn’t stop.

I was so _fucking_ angry.

Kikue was shrieking up at me as he tried to dig his long, pristine nails into the skin of my hand, his voice shrill with seething befuddlement as I curled my lip up in sadistic delight, reveling in the way Kikue struggled in my grip. “What the fuck is wrong with you! You psychotic bitch, let go-”

I rolled my eyes, lifting my left leg up the slightest in quick succession as I collided my shin against Kikue’s right one and watched him sway to the side and wobble on the heels of his stilettos, his scream of panic causing my ears to string from the pitchy tone.

The fucker decided to swing his other arm sideways to catch my right thigh in a brutal punch that left me staggering on my own two feet, giving him enough leverage to snap his head out of the sudden weak grip of my fingers as I found myself falling sideways, my vision turning into a quiet blur while I felt the spine of my back collide against the cool floor with a steady drop.

My breath wheezed out of me then.

Hurt sluiced up my back and down in riotous waves, my form giving a light twitch across the ground as I tried to regain my bleary vision back to its normal state, but a heavy weight settled straight over my sternum, the pressure creating an unwanted impact that made it seem like my ribs creaked in protest at the agonized collision.

Gasping out in pain, I blinked up at the rage pinched across the solace of Kikue’s face, his brown eyes turning a shade darker as he brought the right of his open palm hand up and above his head in a rushed movement and tried to bring it down over the side of my left cheek, but my gaze caught sight of the action in time to bring both my hands up from my sides and off the floor to smack them into the middle of Kikue’s chest, causing him to fall backwards with a huff of air leaving his gaping mouth.

I scrambled on my hands and knees out from beneath Kikue so I could crawl over his prone frame and straddle the boy’s hips with the spread and clench of my thighs, keeping him still as he screamed like a fucking cow up at me, red flushing down his neck and cheeks while he kicked and flailed his arms about.

I snorted.

And slid both my hands, once again, into the host’s brown strands, gripping the locks hard enough to make sure that Kikue’s struggles wouldn’t let me release my hold on them, and in a bout of rage, I hissed down at the boy, my tone coming out in an emotionless facade that was dipped in a low murmur. “Don’t act like the victim. You purposefully looked at me to flaunt your closeness with Harry. You should have expected this, fucking cunt. You may have seen me be polite downstairs but that doesn’t mean I’m a nice person. So don’t think that you're the shite. I’m not someone who likes taking bullcrap from others, specifically those who think they can take someone I like away from me.”

Kikue stared up at me with the wide of his eyes, his pupils dilating in a terror streaked countenance at the way I spoke so tonelessly and without care as I sneered down to him.

I was about to bring the boy’s head up by his hair and smash it back down across the gleaming floor hard enough to knock his arse out and leave him limp in his own sack of flesh for a good hour or two, but right when I was about to do just that, I felt hot, large hands slip their way from beneath my upper arms, grasp my tender flesh there and bodily lift me up with an easy pull.

I yelped out in surprise, my tone high as I felt my frame being carelessly drug up into the air as I was forced to dangle above Kikue’s still figure, my feet swinging to and fro as I blinked profusely in confused irritation, my mind going haywire as I tried to catch up to everything happening around me and sort through the cluster of emotions that nestled inside of my gut.

I kept seeing red.

I couldn’t focus.

I just wanted to hurt Kikue.

Until he no longer could speak or move or get anywhere near Harry-

“Enough. You’re going to end up splitting the boy’s head open if you keep doing what you’re doing.” The low, vibrating husky voice of Harry’s words breathed over the plush skin of of my earlobe, the sound vibrating within the rapid rise and fall of my chest as my breaths stuttered out of my lungs while I whipped my head sideways to catch the assassin’s gaze with my own, our mouths a breadth apart.

A shiver rocked down my spine.

And I was _furious._

“Put me down, you fucking bloody bastard! I don’t want to _see_ you, feel, or even be near you. I can’t fucking stand the sight of you and your selfish, manipulative and emotionless face! Let go, let go letgoletgoletgo!” My voice came out in angered hysteria, the strands of my hair in disarray and whipping across the pale of my cheeks as I shook my head back and forth like some deranged psychopath as I threw a _tantrum_ in the middle of party, in someone’s house, and that someone particularly shaking visibly on the floor where they laid bruised and messed up.

Harry disregarded me as I practically became a live Muppet in his hands, my lips pulled up into a crazed grimace as I tried to swing my arms back and forth, urging my hands to smack at Harry’s chest as he dangled me with no effort whatsoever above the floor. Like a rag doll.

And I could _feel_ people staring at my outburst of emotions, my breaths high and cracking in my throat as I felt saltine water gather up at the corners of my eyes in utter humiliation, overwhelming hurt and unresolved anger. The music still hummed loudly around the solace of the mansion, but those on the second floor had suddenly stilled and watched me with baffled, amused, or concerned expressions that I wanted to wipe off of their curious faces.

The man that had grabbed me earlier, stood stalk still as I struggled about in Harry’s grip, but he wasn’t looking towards me, no, the dark hue of his brown eyes were trained on a spot above my shoulders, behind me.

I knew who he was looking at.

Harry’s body was made up of _steel,_ the front of his chest pressing right up against the line of my spine and letting the heat of his body warm the entirety of my person, the hard set of his abs smothering my back and rendering me breathless at the feel of the lean corded muscles of his arms tensing and relaxing with each steady inhale and exhale he gave away over the skin of my ear.

I didn’t dare look into Harry’s eyes.

The man’s stricken gaze and sickeningly pale expression shown the terror his body was being held under from looking at the Gryffindor behind me. I assume he was watching the way the assassin’s eyes turned an illuminate crystalline emerald film and a disturbingly alluring red shade that caused initial frozen fear within the harsh tremors barricading the blonde man’s form.

I hung, suspended by my underarms from Harry’s iron grip, as I went still when catching sight of the man’s Adam’s apple bobbing at the blunt swallow he procured in his nervous throat.

Whatever the man saw in Harry’s eyes, made him splutter and twitch on the spot where he stood, his mouth opening to yell out across the dance floor towards Harry and I as he spoke rapidly with an anxious drawl. “I-I didn’t do anything man. Why are you looking at me like _that?_ I’m sorry, whatever it is, I’m-”

Everything happened so bloody fast.

I was dropped onto the weak of my feet in a blurred motion, the people around me seeming to become statues as I stared at how their bodies stopped mid motion in any sort of movement they made, as if they were caught and trapped in a certain time inflection. The music having stopped playing.

Kikue was staring up at me still, as if having stopped in all his movements as well with the way his once trembling arm that he had outstretched towards me in a fit of frantic rage, was caught up above his head and was stuck that way without motion.

And Harry’s warmth was gone from behind me.

_What the fuck?_

I squeaked out loud when I heard a guttural gasp leave a person’s mouth, the sound of it similar to that of a bubbling assault.

Whipping my head up, my eyes zeroed in on the scene in front of me.

_Oh …. Oh fuck._

Harry had the whole length of his arm shoved straight through the gut of the blonde man’s stomach.

I couldn’t _breathe._

If Harry, that blonde man, and I were the only people able to move, then that meant that Harry must have cast a spell that inquisitively stopped the time lapse of each individual person.

_Jesus fuck._

The assassin’s arm was covered in the space of the man’s innards that slowly spilled out from the gaping hole created in his stomach, wide and large as the slick sound of his guts trickled out and splurged onto the floor in a cascade of blood pooling at both the feet of Harry’s and the blonde man's jerking across the marble floor.

My lips parted on a gape of a breath leaving the strain of my lungs, heart humming wildly beneath my chest.

I could make out the veins protruding from Harry’s exposed arm slipped inside of the blonde man, the sharp lines of his jaw tensing as the purple neon lighting washed over his intimidating, towering frame. Harry tilted his head down towards the upturned face of the man looking up at him with such horrified _despair._

Harry’s free arm was raised to grasp tightly at the right of the man’s shoulder, holding him up with ease as he tugged the guy further towards his front and shoved his arm deeper into the blonde’s gut with an impassive expression.

The charcoal strands of Harry’s locks licked away seductively at his chiselled cheekbones, his breathing eerily calm as I watched the succulent set of his mouth part and let out a dark threat, voice an octave lower as it rumbled throughout the whole of the level and elicited my skin to break out in rapturous goosebumps. “You touched what is _mine._ That’s what you did.”

The man’s eyes glazed over in a murky brown hue, the dark of his eyes slowly brightening in a white washed color as his a breath gurgled out of his mouth and released a spew of blood that fell onto the black and red stained floor at his wobbling feet.

_Harry’s arm was the only thing holding the guy up._

When the blonde man’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and his frame gave a jolting shudder, Harry let out a deceptive chuckle, cruel and lilting with a raspy lull, as he yanked his arm back out with a sickening sound of intestines shifting about and splashing out of the man made hole in the blonde's gut to the floor.

The man fell like a crumpling puppet, all the strings dispatching themselves from his limbs to leave him flopping to the blood soaked floor in a heap of dead flesh, his body smacking across the ground in a deafening clatter.

My breaths were caught in my throat as my heart stopped and started during abnormal intervals.

I couldn’t even throw up.

I was in _shock._

My eyes tracked the way Harry ignored the dead man across the floor as he turned around with a slow gate, turning on his feet to start towards me as he flicked the red soaked tips of his fingers from every which way in a quick swipe to rid himself of the blood he coated the whole of his arm with, spraying the ground with more  _red_ liquid as he stalked his way towards me.

I took an initiative step back.

Both the warmth flooding my system harboring fear, enthrallment and confused anger rioting within me.

_Harry just killed a man._

_For_ touching _you._

What in the holy hell?

I felt my body tremble, my brows drawn down as the bottom of my lip wobbled with heated nerves as I watched the shifting shoulder blades of Harry’s back move fluidly and predatory like towards me, the red of his eyes consuming the green whole as it drifted into a variety of light and dark.

I took another step back.

And Harry tilted his head to the side, his lips tipping up into a slow cadence made up of a minute, malicious grin that made a sensation of a dip whoosh into the flat of my stomach, my head in a state of wreckage as the sanguine of Harry’s eyes completely captivated me without my protest.

My movements were prevented when the assassin spoke up then. “Are you done throwing your tantrum?” His voice was laced with a bored drawl that made me want to run to the nearest hiding space or snap at him to get some sort of reaction out of such an emotionless man before me.

It seemed I wasn’t finished with my _tantrum._

Shaking my head profusely, I bit down on the plush of my bottom lip, looking down at the dead man and back up to Harry’s encroaching figure as he neared my person.

My thoughts were scattered.

People were frozen in time.

There was a man that was so carelessly killed by Harry’s hands just for touching me.

I was still pissed at the Gryffindor and Kikue and and and, urgh!

“No. N-No I’m not! First you go off and get all cozy with Kikue, whom I can _tell_ you’ve had sexual relationships with, then you ignore me as you talk with the host, _then_ you bring that bastard up with you to dance with and proceed to _kill_ someone for bloody _touching_ me! Wha-how!? I-What is happening, Harry!? You’re hot and cold all the time, mostly cold, and I can never tell what you’re thinking. You punish me just to see a Malfoy be vulnerable and be put into place and fake your _feelings_ for me so you can toy with my emotions for the heck of it right?! Gah! I fucking  _loathe_  you. Fuckfuckfuck! And you keep secrets from me, and I have a mark on my back that you claim to have made! What the fuck is with up with that? huh?!” My words rang throughout the whole area, my breathing rapid as my body shook from where I stood and watched with exhilarated trepidation at the way Harry literally popped out of my vision and reappeared right in front of me.

I yelped out at the rushed action, my heart hammering against my chest as I tried to keep the frown on my face from wavering in the wake of Harry’s quiet rage, his glowing gaze slipping over every space of my expression as if analyzing each tick I made to cause my person to feel open and bare and unnerved.

He didn’t answer me.

And I fucking _lost_ it.

Whipping my hand up as Harry finally closed in on my personal space like an all consuming Stygian prominence, I spread the width of my fingers out and snapped the skin of my palm across the assassin’s face, the slap a profound crack against the flesh of my hand and Harry’s right cheek, the force of it harsh and stinging my hand’s skin but doing nothing to make the Gryffindor’s head twist the other way.

Harry wasn’t affected at all. Unfazed. He just kept staring down at me with the red and green of his unsettling and carnal gaze.

I slapped my left hand across the other side of his face this time.

No movement. No response.

So I did it again.

And again, and again, and _again_.

Still, Harry didn’t move and simply watched me.

I didn’t notice the tears spilling down the flush of my cheeks until liquid started to gather at the corner of my lips and slid down the stretch of my throat as I swallowed continuously around a large, aching lump that felt lodged and stuck there as I hiccuped around a whimpering sob that struck through the buzzing noise in my ears.

_You’re crying, Draco._

I proceeded to then slam the sides of my curled fists against Harry’s chest, pounding my hands across his broad torso repeatedly as I pressed my trembling lips together to keep the angered, aching congested whines from escaping my mouth as I looked down at the ground and slow took steps towards Harry’s frame.

His scent intoxicating.

His body heat setting my own aflame.

“Just leave me a-a-alone. I know you don’t want me, just stop toying with me, _please?_ Reject me already so I can get over it, over _you_ , I-I- _want_ you but I know you don’t really want _me_ , so just stop-” My garbled words were interrupted as well as my physical smack down on Harry’s unbothered body when I felt my wrists clasped tightly by the Gryffindor’s warmed, large hands and found my back slamming into the nearest wall, brutal and causing pain to explode in waves across my spine.

A growl, hungry and feral, sounded in a thunderous and threatening drone out of Harry’s lips that were pulled up into a vicious snarl, all composed structure falling out of place from the single upturn, cruelty of his mouth, eyes shaded and hooded low like a flourescent crimson shade of light that dims from its suspension beneath a narrowed down ceiling, all confined and shrunk down to a callous focus.

My lips released a wet gasp as Harry crowded in on me, making my back practically try to sink its way into the surface behind me as the Gryffindor’s voice came out in an unrestrained morass, that same ominous magical energy I felt before come from the Chosen One’s essence seeping its way out of his bronzed flesh and into the open atmosphere surrounding us.

I knew it was Harry’s magic.

It made the air seem thin and nonexistent, a void filtering the space in a severe withdrawal, causing the confines of my head to feel dazed and deprived of oxygen, dizzied and pressured all at the same time.

It was _sinister._

My cock perked up in interest at the heady sensation, but a certain stricken terror overtook my conscience thought along with the burst of arousal.

I’ve never seen Harry like this before.

His person in pure sadistic countenance.

“You have _no_ idea what you’re talking about, Draco. None. I’m _trying_ to keep you away from me, trying to keep you safe and sound and breathing and _alive._ You can’t _be_ and have all those things if you are around me, do you understand that? I’m cruel to you because it’s necessary, it’s _who_ I am, who I’ve become. I only show this sort expressionless violence towards you _because_ I want you to see and know that you are infatuated with a man who is not _good_ . I’ll ruin you and I’ll like every second of it. Why do you think I went up here with Kikue? I don’t like him, he’s not what I find attractive and he’s not the one I want to spread wide open and fuck my aching cock into until they bleed. I only brought him up here so I could get a rise out of you, because I take in all that anger and hurt and feed off of it, I find your suffering fucking orgasmic because I know you’re the only one who can get my dick harder than bloody _steel_ from the way you look and that pure, gorgeous essence you carry around within yourself as well as that cute, petulant and intelligent personality. What I have festering within my flesh and bone _likes_ the thought of you aching, both physically and mentally and I _cannot_ put you through it. It’s wrong, it’s immoral and I’m fucked up, Draco. You don’t want me but I will forever fucking _hunger_ you.” Harry snapped out his words in a harsh murmur, shoving his face up close to my own as he breathed out a rasp of quick breaths that made his broad shoulders and chest expand and display the definite cords of fit muscle beneath his shirt.

His hot breath fanned over the part of my mouth and I shivered beneath his dark stare.

I gaped up at him.

Speechless.

And Harry continued to speak, his voice groaning low in self deprecation as his illuminate eyes flicked down to the plush of my lips, the shadow of his eyes further darkening as his snarl tipped up some more to reveal the white of his gnashed teeth. Animalistic and _raw._ “I _like_ you. I’ve liked you since the last two years of Hogwarts up until now and after. But I can’t … I can’t _have_ you. You’ll get hurt. And not in the way I want to hurt you. You’ll end up dead by my hands. I can’t have that happen. I can’t control _it._ You won’t be able to handle it, you’re too pure for my filth but _fuck,_ do I want to dirty you up from the inside and out.”

_Harry likes you._

_Harry says you can’t handle_ it.

My mouth opened on reflex and words spewed forth from my mouth before I could comprehend what I was saying. “Stop thinking that I’m w-weak! I can handle whatever you give me, I can _take_ it. Whatever it is that’s going on with you, I can deal with it. We can find a way to-” My rushed words were interrupted by the shrill squeal of my own when I felt a wasp of air whoosh past the left side of my head near my eye and heard an unmistakable crack and splinter of granite ringing clear and definite in my hearing range.

Harry’s fist went straight through the wall to my side, his bloodied arm settling right at my eye level beside me as his hand made a cavernous hole in the wall, chunks of rock falling to the floor in rubble while the assassin heaved in a large breath and grumbled down at me in a possessive, condemned tone. “I’ll _kill_ you. I’ll take the very life essence of your form and chew away at it like its made up of the most addicting divination that has ever laid bare across my quenched tongue. Draco, I _want_ you, it pains me that I can’t have you bent over every surface I can find and fuck into this slut of a body of yours and make you scream out my name like I’ve imagined countless times. You don’t und-”

I yelled at him this time, my voice shrill and cracking at the seams as my words cut over his own, the stutter of my heart rapid and agonizing beneath the flutter of emotions brewing a storm inside of me at what I was hearing. “I don’t have to understand! I want you! You want me! It’s that fucking easy. Tell me what you’re talking about and we can find a way to get through it. _Harry_ , enough is enough. I’ll take your cruelty and the kindness I know you carry around deep inside of that vicious heart of yours, so fucking explain to me what the problem is and we’ll _fix_ it!”

Harry’s head leaned down then, fast and too quick for my eyes to catch as he let the red and green haze of his eyes peer at me through the obsidian strands of his disheveled hair that gleamed beneath the purple lighting, his eyes soaking my frantic expression in with an ardent rage that made my mouth pop open on a small cry, my body trembling from the barraging amount of mixed emotions being forced down into my throat and nestling in the pit of my heated gut, groin tingling and breaths coming out quicker.

The assassin snapped his teeth suddenly, so very close to my mouth as the smash of his jaw nearing my face like a hungered predator made my heart jump high in my mouth, out of my quivering lips and onto the floor to run away from me.

I yelped at the demonic way Harry slammed his jaw shut a millimeter away from my face, his snarl growing into a death like grumble as he rumbled down at me in a rough grunt. “I don’t think you’re weak, _princess._ You’ve got this quiet strength to you that makes me want to tear you pretty limb from _pretty_ limb.” The Gryffindor shifted closer to me, shoving the front of his pelvis against my own to make me emit a high keen out of my mouth from the press of his large, hard, long cock against my prick, slamming me further up against the wall in a brutal impact while he watched me with dark fixation and spoke lowly.

“Remember how dark magic has a mind of its own? Remember how, during the war, every death eater I came across died by my hand. Well, of course, their magic residue didn’t die off, no, _nonono._ Their dark magic, the disturbed and festering hatred and sorrow of such power, didn’t go to the afterlife with its masters. They found the nearest most powerful object they can attach themselves to so they can live and thrive on with its dark energy, and consume the subject whole. _I_ am that object. Every sinister emotion that the death eaters felt were being fed into their dark magic, all the _wrong_ and hurt they carried around with them, was a source of food for that kind of magical art. When I killed Voldemort, his magic latched onto me along with the his other dead followers’ magic. Years of having to carry around this mass of raw and vile power along with my own dark magic, has made me gone _insane_. And the only way I can satiate the need to create chaos around me to feed into my mass of magic, was to involve myself in the most brutal, blood bathing sort of job I could find. Hence why I joined an assassination facility, also because, I still want to help people even with all the messed up thoughts I have.” Harry drew in a deep breath before letting the warm tip of his nose touch the side of my right cheekbone, a light brush of his flesh against my own that elicited a spark of electricity to shoot over my skin in a teasing touch as the man before me visibly _breathed_ me in and dragged his nose along up my flesh until it met the apex of my sensitive skin just beneath my earlobe. It was dark and endearing the way Harry shoved his way further into my space and smothered my front with his own hard, towering one, his scent invading my senses.

I listened as he continued to talk, my mind racing from one point to the next as I tried to soak in the information Harry was _finally_ giving me. “My magic, a powerful fucker it is, feeds off of the others that have clustered within me. At first I was in denial of such horrible thoughts running amok my head after the war, but soon, after some suicidal tendencies of mine, I admitted to myself that I actually _like_ the wrongness of the magic I carried around, from the very beginning I liked the violent and the blood as well as the manipulation I lived through all my life, but being seen and expected to be a good wizard made me try to stop such sickening thoughts. Eventually, I gave up on trying to be someone I wasn’t. It’s just that the dark magic I gained after defeating Voldemort, enhanced my conscious thought about all the shite I tried denying myself for years on end since I was a child and made me realize that _this_ is who I am. Someone who isn’t good. I’ve always been a morbid boy. My magic, having a mind of its own, gets out of hand, sometimes too powerful for my own body to contain, and tries to entice me to do bad shite. I’ve murdered many, and I’ve liked it, fuck, I’ve _basked_ in it.”

I sucked in a sharp breath when I felt Harry’s other hot hand slide up the length of my neck, the blunt of his fingernails burrowing into my throat as he let his hand span out and wrap around the circumference of my neck, his skin smooth and a tanned contrast with my pale flesh.

The assassin’s voice hardened into a deep rasp as he flexed the strength of his fingers over my throat, rubbing the tip of his thumb over my Adam’s apple that bobbed from my cautious swallow around a dry mouth I had, the pressure on the front of my neck making my lips pop open wide to release a heated whimper of dreaded enticement. “My magic, now mingling in with others dark powers, feeds off of others energy and magic. When I kill someone or a crowd of people, all their essence or magic, if they have any, is soaked into my skin and devoured whole by my power. My magic and the others I carry around  with me, likes the taste of a pure being, so much so, that it would subconsciously _draw_ that magic out of said person carrying around a bright source within their body, and drink it in until that person gives out and becomes a shriveled piece of meat. My magic is _interested_ in _you._ And so am I. The fact that I _like_ you, makes it easier for my power to feed off of your purity because of the attachment it has upon you and how it would ruin me, as an individual, if you were dead. My magic feeds off of my own sorrow and emotions, so if it can have some of your magic and essence, it can also have my pain and get even more powerful. Why do you think you felt so weak when I killed that mass group of Carbonou? My magic was immediately drawn to you the most and started to eat your energy with vigor before I stopped it.”

Harry pressed the flesh of his bottom lip on the skin below my ear, dragging it down as he let the row of his top teeth catch on my neck along the way and scraped the pierce of them over my throat, the sharp jab causing my breath to stutter in my mouth and my head to fall back in shuddering delight.

The man mumbled against the skin of my bared throat as the back of my skull thudded against the wall, his hand around the other side of my neck tightening further with a heavy presence. _Sensuous_ and _crude_ . “If I touch you, my magic stirs with a deep rooted hunger and I don’t mind it, I get off on it. Like I said, I’ve given into the fact that I’m fucked up, and my magic likes that I’m screwed in the head so it can roam around more freely in its quest to feast upon others energy and magic since I don’t mind it. But with you … my magic tends to go too far with its sadistic delight and becomes enraged with a starvation. It always goes out of sorts and has the want to take all of what you are, and end up killing you. I don’t want that. Everytime I’m near you, I have to hold back my powers from tearing into you in a way that I prefer it didn’t. My magic goes crazy when I touch you because it could feel your pure energy more and make it go into a savage rampage than when it doesn’t physically touch you through my body. I’ve struggled with it all these years and I’m cautious about being near you because of it. If I have sex you with you, _Kitten,_ you’ll be fucked to death and I fear I won’t be able to stop it because of the amount of pleasure I’ll get from taking your energy as well and taking you physically.”

_Oh fuck._

Harry, the devil that he was, took initiative to snap his hips forward, the ramming of his pelvis over my aching prick causing my body to shift up the length of the wall as the assassin shoved his hard cock right up against my own, a sound of distressed heat bubbling out of my mouth as my feet were slightly lifted up off of the ground, the tips of my toes barely kissing the floor as I was held up against the wall from the press of Harry’s narrowed, fit hips.

Harry was getting distracted by my body it seemed.

And I was getting answers that I’ve wanted from this man for weeks as well as receiving the physical touch of our bodies together like I’ve yearned for.

My templed throbbed from the amount of shite I was learning at the moment, my head hazy from the press of Harry’s frame against my own.

I didn’t know what to do.

Harry had a mass amount of dead death eaters' dark magic mingling in with his own that literally fed off of emotions and energy, mostly the bad ones, and the _purity_ of one’s essence as well, all because it gives the dark magic more power. And if Harry _fucked_ me, he’s saying that he wouldn’t be able to control his magic from eating my soul up alive until I was dead because the action of such intimacy and the feeding off of pure energy, was euphoric to the assassin.

This is so _demented._

The reason why Harry acts the way he does, is because the Chosen One everyone thought they knew, was man that was cruel yet still had a heart that wanted to keep others safe. Harry was a contradiction. I didn’t mind his _wrong._ I … I got off on it, I liked the danger, I liked the fucked up shite because I had some seriously mentally screwed up aspects to myself as well and the knowledge that Harry had the guts to show others, and most specifically _me,_ that he was a brutal and sadistic man, made me comforted and wanton.

But Harry didn’t want to kill me.

Sure, he’d have his moments of treating me like complete shite, but I’ll just have to throw more tantrums like the one I had just a few minutes ago, and get him to _talk_ to me and make me understand his actions.

And we were going to talk about his manipulative ways to get a rise out of me. That whole jealousy thing between Harry and I situation made me completely lose it as well as made Harry kill someone over me for fucks sake!

We had to fix that. 

Harry was trying to push me away, but instead, I just grew more attached to him because he shown me the reality that he lived in and the face that he truly wore with his black heart on his sleeve even when he was completely emotionless.

And I was _scared._

Of Harry and what he was capable of. I was in fear of the way this man could break me, physically and mentally, but … I also craved it and liked the darkness that Harry carried around with him because I’ve lived with such terror my whole life, so it was a _normal_ yet _thrilling_ sensation for me.

And despite how Harry says he would kill me if he went too far with his magic, I believed that he would never do such a thing.

I’d have to ask Harry about _why_ my essence was so … untainted though, sooner or later, since the Gryffindor seemed to have his mind elsewhere at the moment.

The bottom point of my spine erupted with a scorch suddenly, a heated burn right where that mark Harry left on me was settled as the assassin tried to embed himself to my front, giving a languid roll of his lower half against my own that had my hips stuttering and a zing of tingles cascade all over the expanse of my trembling flesh, my breaths high and wheezing as my chest heaved incredulously at the press of Harry’s cock rubbing and creating a burning friction against my aching prick.

_Oh gods._

Bringing my head back up, my words came out in a stumbled quiver as Harry watched me with the glow of his blood red and prehnite green, malicious and magnetizing eyes, his lips and teeth dragging down the slope of where my neck met my exposed shoulder. “The m-mark, why did you put it on m-me?”

My mind was spiraling out of sorts at the touch of Harry’s lips and body against my own.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!

“To ward off all wizards from trying to get into your pants. Once they near the mark with their hands or any part of their body, a spell is released and they incinerate on the spot, their skin if flayed and burnt down to their bone marrow. It also has my magic etched into it, so that others know that you belong to someone powerful and dangerous enough to kill them if they so much as try to touch you. I put it on you during the trial of yours and Narcissa’s. I figured it would keep you safe and it would show that you belong to me, and me only despite how I can’t have you.” Harry murmured his low words into my flesh, squeezing the grasp he had around my throat hard enough to cause my airway to close in and out of itself in deceptive control.

_Stop saying that._

The fact that Harry has feelings for me, honestly and aggressively so, already has made me come _undone._

And we’ll find a way to help control the dark energy Harry has.

Because fuck, Harry _wants_ me and I, well, I want him.

That information was enough for me to gain the courage to bring the pale of my eyes down to catch Harry’s dark gaze and let the next words out of my mouth sound out loud in the deafening silence of the frozen club, my heart ramming so profusely against my chest that I could hear it within the white noise of my reddened ears, my voice coming out in a soft whisper, a damnation that felt as of it set both Harry’s and my own world into a pitch black inferno we both couldn’t prevent for the life of us. “Stop holding back. You won’t kill me, _Harry._ You can have me, you already do and have had me for years now. So _please,_ enough with pushing me away. Give me your _wrong_ and your _right._ You can control it, I know you can.”

I could _feel_ the harsh thud of Harry’s heart beat against his wide chest against my own, his warm, cigar smoke and peppermint breath, releasing from the confines of his provocative lips that stilled in their trek over the line of my collarbones as his fingers dug menacingly and impurely fascinatingly so into the flesh of my naked throat.

The assassin’s gaze started to _hum_ with the way the red seemed to have spilled like the spreading of crystallized, blood stained diamonds over the jade of his eyes.

And it felt like he was _waiting_ for me to say my next words, as if he has always been waiting for me to utter our intoxicated perdition. I said it with Harry’s hand around my throat, his body against my own, and his lips attached to my flesh, my tone reckless and oh so _ready_ for the pain and the pleasure and harsh journey we would have together once we collide with one another like we’ve both wanted for years. “I’m yours and you are mine. You can control your magic and I’ll make sure not to die by your hands. So please, _please, Harry._ Fuck me and punch into me the knowledge that I only belong to you. Want you touch me, to show me all your bad. _T-T-Take me._ ”

There was a subtle, single beat of a harsh and pregnant silence before Harry’s voice sounded out into the open air and over the space of my neck’s flesh, deep and inhumane as his domineering gaze bored into my eyes like he was trying to burrow himself inside of me and invade every nook and cranny of my being, his lips turning up to one side to reveal a salacious, downright filthy grin that shown a depravity and perilous sinful allure, all _dark_ and violent. “You stubborn, naive, little _Kitten._ You asked for it. So let’s play a game.”

I was going to be torn to shreds.

_And fuck, I was ready._

 


	12. Amatory: An Incendiary (Part 1: The Fusce)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THIS
> 
> UPDATE ON STORY'S NEW CHAPTER!
> 
> Hey guys! It's a me! So, this chapter is going to be a literal two part chapter. The first part is called "The Chase" but in Latin "The Fusce". I wanted to do this because I felt like this was the best way to go for this particular chapter. There's some smut in this one, but the second part of the chapter will be filled with just sex. I had to gear up for it because Harry has to live up to his sexual prowess in his own violent and filthy way and it will take at least two parts of this chapter to show how bad Harry is. And poor Draco, the Blonde is going to be crying and not walking by the end of this whole two part chapter. 
> 
> The second part of this chapter will be posted Wednesday, on August 29th, OFFICIALLY. I'm sorry for the delays and postponements. Stuff keeps impeding on my writing process but I have six pages done so far and will definitely be posting two days from now. But it will come! Yesss. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all like this chapter. It was so fun to write. There will be more, promisssse. Remember, I have a tumblr blog dedicated to my stories: reimcai. If you want all the news on how my stories go and when updates are going to be released, that it the place to go to! Thank you for the support and love for my stories! It means the world to me. Now, go on and read my perverts!

_Draco_

 

The onslaught of Harry’s handsome face was covered in a splay of shadows crossing over  the sharp, hard and defined lines of half of his features as he stared at me from the dark hoods of his illuminate red green eyes, the harsh rumble of his drawn out words echoing like a steady thrum within the hollow of my red hot ringing ears.

_Let’s play a game._

Oh _fuck_ me.

My mouth opened and closed, the purse of my moistened lips flapping soundlessly as the beating of my rapid heart caused the inner workings of my rib cage to rattle with its profound clatter against my chest, causing my throat to close up in on itself and leaving my voice quiet, my mouth speechless.

I wanted to scream _yes yes yes!_

Fuck, I was _ready._

But my mouth seemed to have lost its capability to move.

I was shocked, aroused, elated and _terrified_.

Everything that’s been happening around me was overwhelming in its devastating, yet reveling state.

Harry decided to let out a deceptive harsh chuckle then, shaking the hollow space of my frame and eliciting my mind to gear back up into its regular function with a shocking slap of awareness rushing into my body, energizing enough to have my mouth practically squeak out loud what I was struggling to say in kind to Harry’s words.

“ _Yes._ Yes, yes. Let’s p-play a game.” I could feel the warmth of embarrassment coat the skin of my cheeks and the slender of my neck from how high pitched and _eager_ my voice sounded.

The assassin slowly raised a mocking dark brow up at me, the corners of his succulent lips turning down into that neutral fixation of his as he stared at me with a certain malicious glow within the jade of his scorching eyes, rendering me frozen on the spot with his hard chest pressed against my own soft one. “I’m going to put time back into its regular cycle and have Granger and Weasley fix up this mess. They’ll obliviate everyone’s memories and get rid of the dead body. I’ll send them a mental message through my magic and they’ll know. You and I … we’re going somewhere.” Harry’s voice was in a honeyed husky drawl as he spoke, heavy gaze steadied on my person with an unnerving focus that made me _squirm_ beneath his stare and my skin heat up like the spewing flames of the sun’s inflamed surface.

When I didn’t give a response in my dumbfounded manner, Harry let out a sinister hum, all low and deep in its cadence as his ruby gaze pulsated in their trek to making an observation over the whole of my face. “Does my Kitten have a tongue? He’s so very quiet and _excited_ to the point that he’s lost his capability to speak, hmm”. The Gryffindor’s voice dropped even lower into a taunting, brutal lilt that made me splutter in indignation and warmed prominence.

Jesus fuck.

Harry Potter was going to be the death of me, mentally, not physically, well maybe a little bit of both, but dammit, this man was such a devastatingly tortured and powerful being that it was _unnerving_ and bloody _magnetic_ to be around him let alone be in in the same vicinity of his intimidating presence.

Hearing such a man tease me of all people, had rendered me dumbfounded.

Harry is mean, and sadistic.

Harry is possessive and caring for only those he wants to be towards to.

Harry wants me, and not just for my body.

The assassin said that he’s wanted me for years, as I have for him.

And I want him. All of the fucked up and stable parts.

Harry is a bloody devil and I was ready to be damned for him, more so than I already was.

I felt fine tremors rake down the length of my spine, each inhale and exhale shaking out of the quivering of my mouth as I felt a buzz of adrenalized anticipation seep its way into my bones.

Sucking in a sharp breath, the wavering of the air in my lungs stuttered as I rolled the flesh of my bottom lip into my mouth and looked up at Harry from beneath the pale of my lashes, a burn of embarrassment and exhilarated nerves flooding my system as I watched the way those crystalline eyes of the assassin’s dragged down to the way I brought my lip between my teeth.

Harry’s eyes darkened further into a molten crimson hue.

And _oh,_ Harry _liked_ that.

I decided to do something that my mother would start crying over and my father would disown me for.

Taking the right of my hand, I brought the trembling of my fingers up in a cautious motion, tentative in their determination to near the space around Harry’s left wrist, my eyes caught in his unearthly gaze as I let the question leek through the wide of my own gaze towards him.

_Can I touch you?_

It was as if I was treading on fine waters near a living and breathing predator aware of my every movement, a calculating severity that embodied the entirety of Harry’s ominous persona.

It both thrilled and scared me.

When Harry let his head agonizingly slowly tilt to the side, the tendrils of his obsidian chipped hair brushed across the bronze flesh of his forehead and sharp cheekbones, obscuring the glow of his eerie and brilliant eyes that kept their fixation on my own.

Harry didn’t make a move towards me, but waited.

Harry waited for my touch.

Mother fucking _hell._

My heart gave a vicious thump against my chest, my lip releasing from its trap beneath my teeth to allow my mouth to gape apart, my breaths coming out in breathy exhales that left me shuddering on weakened limbs against the wall I was backed into like a trapped prey.

Mustering up the courage to let my fingers wrap around Harry’s wrist, I noticed how small my hand was compared to his large and heated one from how the tips of my appendages didn’t even touch the slightest around the width of the Gryffindor’s wrist. That knowledge sent electricity down into the pit of my gut, the fact that I was _small_ compared to Harry titillating to the confounds of my head.

Harry could break me with a single flick of his wrist, but he didn’t.

_You like being small and dainty. Makes you feel like a doll. Makes you feel like you can be roughed up easily._

_Filthy._

_Impure._

_You like it._

Harry’s skin was smooth to the touch, heated like a flickering flame catching alight on a spillage of gasoline. His skin was burning compared to the cool temperature of my own.

Lifting Harry’s hand up to level with my face, I felt my cheeks flush further, the buzzing in my ears humming louder as the red of Harry’s eyes grew into a faint burgundy hue, similar to that of dried blood, carnal and foreboding, when he _watched_ the plush of my mouth drop open to let the tip of my tongue peak out and drag its wet length up the inner flesh of Harry’s middle finger.

The musky, male taste of the assassin’s finger invading the expanse of my tongue caused my jaw to slacken in unadulterated pleasure and my lashes to flutter open and close in a dizzying countenance, my lips parting wider to let my tongue lave out shyly and run the flat of it up Harry’s finger in a flick of a lap.

He tasted like a fatal wound inflicted upon oneself out of the need for pain.

_Euphoric. Wrong._

Blinking my eyes open, I jerked back in surprise at the sudden close proximity of Harry’s handsome face near my own, my head snapping back and colliding with the wall behind me when Harry brought his middle finger down closer to my open mouth and caught the divot of my bottom lip to drag the skin downward with a slow tug, my tongue brushing over the flesh of his finger as he let out a rush of air through the slight part of his mouth, strained and roughened following my own soft exhale of a breath.

“We’re leaving this place and you’re going to get fucked. I’m taking that purity away from you and you’re going to beg and cry for more throughout every second of it. Do you understand me.” Harry’s voice was unnoticeable, his words dipping low in a grunted baritone that reached deep into the core of my groin, heat sufficing in my cock as Harry let out a clear demand instead of a question.

I let out a tiny keen as I breathed out a wet gasp when the tip of my tongue slipped back out of my agape mouth and circled around the top of Harry’s finger, the smell of cigar smoke and warmed honey intoxicating my senses. The lashes of my eyes pressed softly across the tips of my cheekbones, a sort of serene bliss covering the whole of my frame as I tasted the stygian musk of Harry’s finger, an embarrassing whimper leaving my mouth in a garbled whine when the assassin abruptly snapped his hips forward and pressed his lower half against my own at the same time my tongue went down to flick across the heated skin of Harry’s ring finger.

My cock throbbed insistently now.

Giving a vigorous nod, I parted my lips further to let out a shaken voice, broken and high in its impatient arousal as I felt the skin of my body erupt into a series of goosebumps at the sensation of heat radiating from Harry’s own body and the words I spoke out loud in a muffled manner from my obvious distraction of licking the assassin’s fingers. “I understand … _Erus_.”

I felt the whole of Harry’s frame stiffen then, the strain of his muscles becoming taut and brokering a sort of rigidity that caused every defined slope of his body to become sharper in its lines, harsh and salacious.

_Fuck._

I said that out loud, bloody hell, I thought that I said such a thing in the safety of my own head, but it seems that my mouth had a mind of its own. It was a reflex. It was something that kept festering in the back of my mind that I’ve tried to cease into disappearance out of shame and wrong depravity.

Harry was Romanian and Arabic, I remembered his ethnic background when we had to do a potions project back in Hogwarts when we were sixteen and had to create a potion that embodied our ethnicity and how we perceive ourselves. I overheard Granger’s surprised exclamation at Harry explaining to Weasley and her about his ethnic background in an attempt to figure out how to represent himself through a potion.

Harry knew Latin since his family spoke it at times when he was a child.

He knew what I just said.

And having learned Latin since I was a child for the sole reason of knowing multiple languages as a Malfoy, I remembered having learned “Erus” from my father during some point in our lessons together, and it stuck in my head since then, all consuming and fascinating to my eye.

_Shite._

“Erus” meant “Master” in Latin.

Harry reminded me of a “Master” that I’d do anything for. He owned me. I was _his._

Harry’s going to think I’m weird now, for fucks sake. I ruined _everything._

My eyes wouldn’t move from its spot to where I stared, stricken and mortified, at the broad chest of Harry’s that practically glued itself to the front of my frame, the slamming of my heart beneath my rib cage roughened and violent. But soon my vision became a blur of colors when the Gryffindor swiftly and too fast for my brain to pick up on, brought his hand away from my seeking tongue to grab handfuls of my arse cheeks, digging the blunt of his fingers into the plump flesh in that large palm of his as his other hand rose up to slip beneath the onslaught of my mini skirt with a teasing tap of the tip of his long index finger running across my shivering flesh. The heat of his hand trailed up my leg, inching up with a crude scorch of his touch as he went to clasp the bottom meat of my left thigh in a vice grasp, frighteningly calm. All strict power and casual darkness.

My head was pinned to the wall behind me now, the back of my skull resting against the surface as my breaths quickened in heated rupture. I swallowed around a dry throat, my Adam’s apple bobbing as I tried gulping oxygen into my lungs with a feverish build from the swift need to gain back the breaths I lost in the wake of Harry’s touch.  

I let out a _mewl_ then, releasing an obscured, slick sound that made my body burst with heat when I felt Harry’s fingers embed themselves deeper into the skin of my bum, careless and brutal, eliciting saltine water to gather up in the corners of my eyes and shadowing my vision over as I blinked rapidly in a shocking aroused haze from the pain inflicted grab the assassin branded into the flesh of my arse, a delicious hurt that I fucking quaked in.

My prick started to thrum in time to the rapid pace of my heart beat now.

Feeling the brush of soft lips across the shell of my right ear when Harry gave a minute shift of his fingers around the grip he had of my thigh with the opening and closing of his hand in an possessive fondling, the low of his deep voice murmured disturbingly calm and dirty into my ears while the sharp of his cheekbones pressed into my temple as he backed me, tight, against the wall some more with the hard lines of his looming body.

“I want you to say that again. But when I have my cock in you, _Princess_ . Right now, I have to flick time back on and get us out of here.” The breeze of Harry’s warmed breath caused a riotius sweep of energy to play down my curved back, his words ringing in the empty space of my ears as I subconsciously made a minute _whorish_ twitch of my hips against the Gryffindor’s to feel the brush of his large, hard cock against my groin, searching for his touch like a an attention starved creature.

_Guess Harry liked you calling him “Erus”._

And when I brought a large intake of air into my mouth, I turned beet red in the tiny twist of my head towards Harry’s own, shuddering out a fevered whine as I let the bottom of my lip drag up the slope of the man’s defined jawline, needy for the assassin.

Fuck. I’ve completely gone bonkers, becoming so wanton for this man.

Harry let out a thunderous growl, animalistic like and aggressive. The sound emitted from deep within his chest, shaking my body along with the sound from the ferocity of the noise he created.

It was _inhumane_.

And I … I was in both fear and excitement from hearing such a sound from Harry.

Then the flesh of my bum and thigh was left absent from Harry’s touch, leaving me in a daze as I stared up at Harry with the flat of my back and weight upon the wall behind me and feeling cold without _Erus’_ body towering and blanketing my own.

I was too weak kneed to bloody move.

Looking up at Harry, I found the broad,  muscled back of his turned towards me as the whole of the room seemed to come back alive, people’s body phasing back into its regular motion as they continued on with the action of their frames in their prevented mid movement. The space around me started to spark with livewired energy once again, the deep bass of the music thudding into the erratic pace of my heart and leaving me breathless and in wonderment as I watched time slip back into its fold and trek through its motioned pace.

It was as if I was watching a live muggle movie, having paused it, and then started it back up again with a simple click of a remote.

Harry Potter was _powerful._

And Kikue was spluttering on the floor like the prissy bitch that he was, the dark of his eyes narrowed as he struggled upon the floor in the midst of his scramble to get back up and most likely rush after me like a linebacker.

But the host couldn’t seem to find enough strength to push himself up onto his feet and instead, resorted to sneering at me as he pressed the palm of his trembling hand against the side of his head where I most likely tore away some of the strands of his hair.

I simply scoffed.

That seemed to get the Japanese boy in gear, his feet scurrying about as he went to come at me with his lips curled up into an ugly sneer, but he didn’t get far when I suddenly felt the tugging and nauseous sensation of the apparating teleportation spell being cast upon my figure as the sight of Kikue’s haphazard, sort of crazed state, popped out of my view and was replaced by something else.  

Feeling the sickening source of the teleportation magic ease away from the slowly draining hum of my temples and the pit of my stomach, I blinked profusely as the soles of my heeled shoes sunk deep into the mass of clay like, carmel tinged sand.

The scent of sea water salt invaded my senses as the purse of my mouth parted in surprised awe as I looked around the area surrounding me.

I was in a sort of alcove, large granite jasper walls circling my frame to create a large space that opened up behind me to show a long stretch of the light shaded, burgundy hue of sand, a mass of azure, opal tinged water lapping up the narrow slope of the dirt floor. A cliff to the back of my left went several feet up high and was etched in the same chestnut colored slate jagged walls that made a open circle around me.

The sky above me was encased in wisps of smokey grey films, puffs of cotton ball clouds gathering high above my head as a moistened, warmed breeze swept around the flair of my short skirt, ghosting across my bare legs and shoulders.

It was beautiful.

In front of me, where the granite went into a shape of an upside down U around me, a massive space parted the walls from the top of its towering height to the bottom where my feet met the sand and a body of water shown through the clearance, creating a cave like mouth that went on for quite a ways until a sliver of an opening at the end peaked out at me, mystified fog gathering feather light across the ground at my feet and into the tunnel.

“This is where I live. Well, in all technicality, this is the path to where my house is. I walk through the cave here and at the end of it, where it opens back up, is where my _Conditum Arae_ is.” The familiar sound of Harry’s deep timbre of a voice, warmed and in a low drawl, came directly from my right, sudden and causing me to jerk on the spot with an indefinite squeak.

Shuffling about on the sand, I turned my front towards Harry’s left side, spluttering on the spot as I looked up at him with the mess of my hair ruffled about and my eyes large in their surprise, my heart hammering in my chest wildly. “Bloody hell, Harry! You could have given me a heart attack!?” my voice came out shrill and in shock.

Harry raised a dark brow up at me, the green of his emerald eyes gleaming within the blood red he catered with the opposing color as he gave me a blank expression, emotionless in the gorgeous lines of his face, his tone low. “I like watching you get flustered around me. It’s cute.”

I huffed up at him, jutting out my bottom lip in irritated embarrassment at Harry’s words.

And then I remembered what he just said.

Furrowing my brows, I looked back towards the cave, the heels of my shoes wobbling from their sinkage into the sand below me. “ _Conditum Arae_ … your ‘Kept Sanctuary’ if I’m correct in my latin. Does this mean that no one knows where you live except for yourself? Why are you hiding out here? It’s lovely and beautiful, but why so isolated, Harry?” I peaked at Harry out of the corner of my eye, taking in the way Harry’s hair curled and became even more unruly in the moistened heat around us, charcoal toned and silky looking to the touch. My fingers itched to slip through the assassin’s discheleved locks to grab handfuls and tug of them so I could bring his head down and get his mouth on my own.

The Gryffindor looked out towards the cave, expression blank as he replied in a quiet rumble of his smooth voice. “I’ve constantly been hounded by people since I was young. I like my solitude and the quiet, something that I didn’t get much when I came to Hogwarts and dealt with being the ‘Chosen One’ and all. When I was a child, my aunt and uncle, the abusive bastards they were, kept me in a small room beneath the stairs and it was quiet with no people around in there. I guess you could say I grew up used to it and liking it. It’s a comfort for me. And I don’t want anyone in the Wizarding World bothering me like they always do whenever I’m out and about. So I figured the place where I stay should give me a peace of mind. No one knows where I live, except, well, you now.”

I’ve heard about Harry having to live with his horrible family when he wasn’t in Hogwarts as a child. Even though I didn’t say much on it, what with having the same situation as him in dealing with my own family, I always thought that it was wrong for Harry to be in a house with such disgusting people. No child deserved the abusive treatment Harry got. There was a time once where I stood in front of Dumbledore’s room and was about to come barging in and telling him to take Harry into his home instead of sending him back off to his godsawful family.

But my father caught me and told me to stop being ridiculous. Lucius told me that I shouldn’t care for Harry like that.

I was stopped from doing anything for Harry. Because of my own fear of defying my parents and my pride as a Malfoy.

How naive and stupid I was.

But I was elated with the fact that I was the first to ever see where Harry lived now and that the assassin didn’t have to deal with his family again.

And he had a good reason staying, practically, in the middle of nowhere. People were nosy, especially when it came to the “Savior”.

I knew that Harry telling me a tidbit about his life as a child and his reasons for living somewhere quiet desolate yet breathtaking, didn’t constitute for me to pity him. And I didn’t. Harry wouldn’t want that either. He’s strong and he’s shown that since he was little, both mentally and physically. I can sympathize, but I don’t need to pity him. I wouldn’t want anyone to pity me either.

I tilted my head, gazing into the deep rooted cave for a brief moment before speaking back to Harry in a lull of a murmur. “You deserve your privacy. Thank you for showing me.”

Harry spoke out once again, the sound of my name hot and heavy like melted brown sugar from the curves of his lips, causing my heart to splutter beneath my chest.  “Take your shoes off, Draco. Don’t want them getting wet now, do we, Princess?”

The Gryffindor made a minute movement now.

Taking a predatory stalk towards my figure with one leisure like step after another, Harry rounded my frame, eyes darkened and his tall and lean muscled body circling me with a sinister observation to stand directly in front of me. Harry lilted his head down so the black tendrils of his hair fell into the glow of his red green eyes that bore down on me, my breath catching in my throat when the man kept my gaze on his penetrating ones from underneath the dark of his black lashes as he bent at the knees and knelt before me.

I went stock-still.

Harry let out a low, amused chuckle, foreboding and sadistic with the edges of his lips tipped up the slightest to reveal a crooked, teasing grin.

My lungs felt inflated.

The assassin brought his hands up, palms open as he let the heat of his hands run up the slope of my calves, a bitten off moan escaping the part of my mouth as Harry leaned his head forward and hovered the soft skin of his lips a breadth away from the front of my exposed right thigh, mocking and _dark._

Pressing my lips together to keep myself from letting out an indefinite sound that would put me into an embarrassment turmoil, the Gryffindor’s hot breath whooshed across my thigh as he gripped the back of my knee and gave an easy tug up to cause my balance to wobble while my leg bent up towards Harry’s knelt fit frame. “Take them off, Princess. I’m giving you an hour to hide from me inside of my house until I come searching _._ You hide, I seek. I find you within thirty minutes after the hour is up, you lose. If not, then you win. It’s a game. And it starts _now._ ”

And with that, I was released from Harry’s grip, left stricken on the spot as I felt my foot drop back to the sand with a soft thud.

Blinking profusely in a dizzied manner at the image of Harry literally disappearing from my sight like a fucking _ghost_ , the man had vanished from my sight and left me to play his _game._

The bastard had the audacity to tease me and then leave me!

Shutting the gape of my mouth with a click of my teeth slamming together in an annoyed yet exhilarated countenance, I felt the beating of my heart kick up a notch as I replayed Harry’s words in my head.

I had an _hour_ to find a good hiding spot until Harry started to actually come looking for me.

It was simply a game where I was the prey and Harry was the predator.

And I had a feeling that despite the fact that I know Harry would be looking for me, my heart would shudder and quake beneath my rib cage from the sensation of being _chased_ after, constantly and possessively as if I was truly a creature being hunted by its killer.

_You’re going to run for it when Harry finds you, even if it’s after an hour and he’s still looking._

_You’re going to get fucked when the assassin captures you._

Oh _fuck_ me.

Gasping out loud, I bent down to unlace the strings of my high heel shoes and kicked them off to the side in a haphazard, frantic manner, my breaths coming out faster than usual as I felt a prickling of unnerved and warmed energy skitter down my spine and over the cool of my skin.

_Time to play._

I took a sprint forward.

And bloody _stumbled._

Over sand. 

What in the hell?

Thank fuck Harry didn’t see that.

Groaning inwardly towards the complete idiocy of my being, I shook off the mortification clouding my senses as I went to straighten out my posture once again on wobbling limbs, and with an irritated huff, started to run through the mystified fog and into the cavernous hole awaiting for me to trek through.

My mouth popped open wide to release a squeak when the soles of my bare feet sloshed into a body of cool water hidden beneath the fine mist surrounding the entirety of the rock and sand coveted floor, the tips of my feet sinking into the wet ground, moist sand seeping in between the wriggling of my toes as I took a momentary motionless stand still in surprise from the sudden sensation of feeling a pool of water I carelessly stepped into.

The water felt like a fucking frostbite!

Sucking air through the abrupt clench of my clattering teeth while a heavy dose of a chill brushed over the space of my flesh and caused goosebumps to arise, I shook my head vigorously to wave off the desire to step back and away from the freezing water and take solace on the warmed sand and instead, started to break off into a frenzied run through the cave.

Pressing my lips together to keep from releasing anymore embarrassing sounds of surprise or shock from the water splashing about all over the length of exposed calves and thighs, I trudged through the shallow water with quick steps, a shadow crossing over my running frame as the curved rocky walls arched in above my head and created a wide, large tunnel of sorts.

The Stygian the cave created with the little curls of azure water spray and the mist it produced as the sound of waves crashing recklessly around my figure and outside of the tunnel, created a surreal, breathtaking view and sensation.

And I kept running with my feet treading through the ankle deep water, an exhilarated small smile slowly curving up at the sides of my mouth, heart pummeling loudly in my ears as adrenaline raced wildly through my veins and pumped heavy in my lungs.

I liked feeling _hunted._

I also liked feeling fucking free for once in my life.

Sprinting further down the cave and making sure to not trip over any rocks ready to cause my feet to stumble and break my face open over the earthy floor, I finally reached the end of the tunnel where the hole at the other side was just as wide, high and huge as the one I came in through.

When I found my body out of the cave’s shadows, I was faced with an upward slope, the sand disappearing into forest green grass and a winding brick and stone walkway that led up the hill of a large incline where at the top of the slope a huge mansion sat near the edge of a cliff overlooking the vast hazed and cerulean ocean.

I gaped.

The mansion was a building that towered high, several levels of floors and windows coveting the whole of the granite, dark grey toned walls of the mansion that had at least three main areas connected to each other in a curving shape. The architecture was made up of Gothic hues with its pointed, intricate designs embedded into the stone like the mansion was built from the hands of one of history’s finest sculptors.

The mansion was so high up on the slope that it’s surroundings were no longer sand from the ocean but pure, forest greens grass, the space around the multiple, intricate buildings covered by brilliant brushes of pastel, soft toned colored flowers and vines that wrapped up and around its frames. A forest was to the left of the large mansion while to the right of it, was the cliff and the ocean below. The large trees stretched on for miles and up another slope to the beginnings of yet another cliff.

The place was secluded.

And _beautiful._

The mansion resembled that of dark Victorian mansion, detailed in its granite structure and high floor to ceiling windows on each level of the house’s various connected buildings.

I couldn’t help but stop and _gawk_ at the place.

The mansion was harsh and lovely. A breathtaking embedding of the granite it held within itself accompanying the high ceilings with Gothic fixation eliciting a sort of ominous, enticing presence about itself. The clouds hanging high above my head, seeming to become a shadowed prominence of smoke emitting from charcoal, seemed to emphasize the foreboding yet alluring cadence the mansion and its area surrounding it carried within itself.

That’s when I felt a drop of cool water plop against the tip of my upturned nose.

Blinking out of my haze of amazed awe at Harry’s mansion, I watched with widened eyes as a flash of lightning, amethyst streamed and electricity laced, shot out of from one of the clouds and struck diagonally in a zigzag motion to my right. A clap of thunder following soon after the rush of lightning, brutal and rumbling deep in the confounds of my chest as it sounded out like the growl of a steam engine all around the prone shape of my figure and making my breath come out in a whoosh of exaltation.

A _storm_ has started.

Clicking my tongue as a wash of shivers ran down the length of my spine, the white static sound of the rain erupted from each of my sides, the cool of my skin becoming slick in its flesh from the pelting of water flowing over my mini skirt clad frame. Water fell upon me in a quick pitter patter, splashing over the slim of my trembling body as the mess of my hair started to become drenched in chilling liquid while the strands started to plaster themselves to the sides of my cheeks and the corners of my wobbling bottom lip.

Fuck, it’s _freezing._

And raining.

I _love_ it.

But I needed to get the hell inside the mansion and hide before Harry comes to find me!

Wiping the blur of water from the narrow of my eyes, I flicked the droplets away from my visage and started a sprint up the hill, my heart picking up its rhythm as thunder and lightning started to dance among themselves in the flashing neon purple and sapphire strikes in the grey clouds gathering in clutters together with each passing second I raced up the slope of the hill with the bare of my feet slapping against the flat stoned pathway of the mansion.

I was soaking fucking _wet._

My clothes were sticking to every nook and cranny of my body, the short of my skirt becoming second skin over the shape of my inner thighs and the curves of my bum, outlining the ridiculously perky flesh of my arse for all the world to see, my embarrassment rising into a self conscious shame as heat sufficed over the pale of my cheeks.

The smell of rain, wet and fresh, blanketed over my senses, causing my skin to revel in its soothing, thrilling touch as I raced up the slope of the hill with cold feet and my hands fumbling about across the slick fabric of my sticking top and skirt in an attempt to cover myself up, especially the outline of my perking prick and my hard nipples.

Fuck me.

Hissing beneath my ragged breaths from the amount of exertion my body was going through from all the fucking running I’ve been doing, I realized it had to be at least thirty minutes since I’ve started to go through the cave and gawked a bit at the mansion then started up the hill with quickened feet.

My heart palpitated violently beneath my chest at the knowledge that I was _losing_ time left to hide from the assassin and soon … Harry would be coming for me.

My cock twitched at the thought of the Gryffindor chasing me, stalking after me as I tried to keep my distance from him and keep myself hidden from his penetrating, overwhelmingly brilliant gaze.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuck!_

_You need to hurry, Draco!_

Finally reaching the top of the hill, wet and tired, I trudged on over to the front entrance of the mansion where large Italian wooden doors towered over my frame in a looming sense of intimidation, the handles a large circular ring steel nob that I had to grasp onto with a heavy breath of strain from how bloody heavy the thing was, and pull it towards my figure to open up the large door.

And it didn’t budge.

What. The. Fuck?

I pulled the handle again.

Nothing.

Null and void.

The fucking door wouldn’t open!

Of course Harry wouldn’t leave his mansion unlocked. The bastard is paranoid about everything and because he’s an assassin, he probably put up one of the most intensely intricately designed protection spells around his home so no one would be able to get in.

But I’m guessing since Harry knew I was going to be going into his mansion, he let the shields down for me.

And yet he didn’t leave the doors open.

I wanted to run the shaking of my cold fingers into the soaked strands of my pale hair and tug at them in frustration.

Harry was purposely making me go through all this shite probably just to see me struggle.

Gah!

Fine.

If Harry was going to make this difficult on me, then I was going to have to get a little bit creative and surprising.

I’m going to break in.

Rearing my head back, I felt the tendrils of my chaotic hair brush across the wet of the back of my neck and exposed, slick shoulders as the erratic searching of my wide eyes went from chasing one window to the next in hopes of finding one low enough for me to climb up towards and perhaps ease the glass door open belonging to it so I could get inside the fucking mansion.

_You’re running out of time._

_Hurry up!_

“Fuck it!” I screeched out loud underneath the rushing sound of the rain flooding my hearing and wetting my flesh even more, my voice shrill and panicky in the state of my unnerved yet anticipated adrenaline.

A window to my left stood a couple feet off of the ground level where a bundle of vines climbed up the length of the stone wall, winding itself around a redwood panel that was settled against it for the plants to wrap themselves around and create somewhat of a ladder of sorts for me to climb on up and get to the bottom of the window.

Okay. Here goes nothing.

Hitching up the bottom hem of my skirt around the underside of my bum, I ignored the sensation to cover myself up with the knowledge that I probably had, at most, twenty minutes left to find a spot to hide from Harry gnawing at the back of my head, and released a big, shuddering breath, while I practically stomped on over towards the ivy covered wall.

“You can do this. You can do _this_.” I mumbled beneath my breath, urging myself on to keep trodding across the wet, granite floor with the naked soles of my feet as I approached the vine like ladder and hefted up my right leg to fit the tops of my toes into the dewey green shrubs with a light gasp escaping the moist of my lips.

Fuck.

That’s cold.

Fluttering my eyelids about to veer away the droplets of rain water catching on the pale of my thick lashes, I let out a plush of air from my mouth as I swung my other leg up and snuggled the whole of my bare foot into the ivy as well, breathing rapidly as I let the wet of my skirt’s material slip from the death grip my hand had on it to reach up with both my free hands now and grapple onto the vines.

The window better be open dammit!

Placing one foot to the next up the green wall of the nature like surface attaching itself to the mansion, I started to pull my body up the incline with my straining arms and legs, my lips emitting pants of air that I couldn’t help but let out in my state of exhaustion as I climbed up and up with a fevered, almost crazed like up-climb crawl.

My body is so weak when it comes to physical activity.

Urgh!

When I found the tip of my head reaching the bottom level of the floor to ceiling window,

I brought out the right of my hand to fling my arm out in time to grip onto the ledge of the window sill and lean the whole weight of my body over so I could reach my other hand out and slap my palm over the glass of the window so I could push inwards and up on it.

Nothing moved for a few seconds, but with the erratic pushing of my hand against the glass of the window, it made a suction sound and an indefinite _click_ to indicate that the window was unlocked and ready to fucking _open._

Sucking in a sharp breath, I gave one last hard push of my slippery wet hand against the window and up, and watched with elated victory, how the glass rolled upwards and left a huge enough space for my slim frame to climb in through and find solace in the mansion.

And I did just that.

Gripping on the ledge of the window, I scrambled my feet up the ivy, winding leaves and shoved my right foot followed along with left foot soon after, into the open space the glass created for me.

Fuck yes!

Squeaking out soundlessly in giddiness, I pushed the rest of my body, feet first then head, into the open window and jumped rather noisily onto the sleek marbled, grey and obsidian flecked floor of the mansion, my wet figure slipping about as I fell to my shins with a harsh impact and a grimace in response to the abrupt but quick pain prickling the fall induced within my legs.

I made it.

Holy hell.

I did it.

_Yesyesyesyesyes!_

A tiny curl of my mouth grew more into a genuine smile, the space of my exerted cheeks a deep, flushed red from the exercise I just put my body through while my lungs expanded and deflated in quick successions beneath my chest.

And my mouth went dry at the sight before me.

I was only on the first level of the mansion, finding myself kneeling across the marble floor of a large foyer that took up at least the size of three rooms of a regular sized house at most, the ceilings stretching on high for miles above my head as the walls around me were a rich, warm mahogany scheme like granite. To my left there was a another room that opened up into, most likely, the living room, and to my right, another opening to possibly the kitchen or dining room settled. But in this foyer, a set of staircases, huge and wide with each smooth stone step curling into a semicircle up to the second level of the mansion, was long and dark in its coal tinged color. The stairs had a set of levels, halfway to the top, there would be a space where a window resided to the right and then another set of stairs would start up again. That kind of setup happened at least three times before the steps reached the beginning of the second level.

It was beautiful.

Rolling the bottom of my lip into the confines of my nervous mouth, I stood there in the space of the luxurious foyer as the sound of my water soaked frame dripped liquid across the pristine, dark floor in a series of puttering drops, my figure shrouded in heady bumps of anxious ridden suspense.

It was deadly silent in this mansion.

With an occasional flash of lighting and the rumble of thunder to break the quiet of the space around me, there was no other sound.

Harry’s house carried a sinister enticement to it that made my body break out in tremors, of both fear and excitement.

_Something’s wrong with you._

Pushing the flat of my hands across the gloss of the warm floor, I heaved up into a wobbling stand on the weakened limbs of my legs, huffing out an annoyed breath as I twisted my body to the left and started to walk into a small room in the corner of the foyer, somewhat closed off and hidden beneath the shadows dancing in the dark air of the mansion.

Perhaps I could hide _there._

Walking towards the door with a jilted step and my breaths roughened as I tried to calm the racing of my heart down back into its regular pace, I quickly opened the heavy wooden door with a rushed turn of my wrist on its shiny, steel handle and sprinted into the room to softly shut the door behind me in a barely noticeable press of its frame back into place.

_Shite!_

The room I entered was made up of the size of a kitchen inside a regular house would be, having lush, burgundy hue furniture that would give me no such place to hide behind or underneath while having just one desk and rows of bookshelves stacking atop of one another covering the whole of four walls and up to the tip top of the ceiling, no light whatsoever to illuminate the room.

And it was reaching night soon.

This only made my anxiety ricochet higher up into my working, convulsing throat as I kept swallowing around a dry mouth as I searched with a crazed hysteria for any object large enough to hide behind or under. But nothing too big resided in this room.

But right when I was about to turn around and rush out of this enclosed space to find somewhere else to hide away in, my large eyes caught sight of a, small in their frame, settled upon the one desk inside this odd, almost barren room.

I stared.

Transfixed.

There was a picture of Harry, when he was young, all calm and collected but with the tiniest of a smile as he stood in front of a glass case that shown an array of motorcycles behind it, the machines out on display with at least a twelve year old Harry all beaten, battered and bruised at the flesh with his face swollen and caked in flecks of dried blood in front of them.

Harry looked like he was almost beaten half to death.

But he looked … happy.

The assassin’s clothes were ripped at the seams, showing patches of the scarred flesh he gained that day or so at the torn material of his dirt stained blue jeans and dark green, ratted T-Shirt.

This place he was at didn’t look to be an area in the wizarding world.

Harry looked like he was in the muggle part of the world.

And he looked, saddeningly happy, what with his intense wounds and somewhat unnerving, serene smile in all that chaos he wore on himself.

What happened that day?

Why is that the only picture Harry has in this room?

There was also one other object.

My wand, the one that was taken away from me during mine and my mother's trial by Harry himself, was settled next to the picture.

What the hell?

Harry has my wand!

The black, smooth surface of my wand gleamed in the dark of the room it seemed, untouched and intact with its supple, pointed tip.

My hand, as if on reflex, snatched its fingers around to curl around the cool wood of my wand and caress it into the curve of my trembling palm.

Fuck. I missed _this._

The texture of the wood in my hand was fine and the perfect amount of weight in my hand that shook with shock and elation that seeped into my bones at the feel of one the most precious belongings to my person having to be in my hands once again.

I thought I’d never see _my_ wand ever again.

Did Harry purposely put my wand out in the open like this for me to find and take it? Harry knew I'd be looking for places to hide. Perhaps he decided to put my wand in clear sight so I could have it back while I went in hiding?

_Stop looking around! You’re losing time, you fucking idiot._

Snapping out of the confused, curious state of my thoughts, I let out a silent curse at myself, my mouth pulling up into an irritated small sneer as I turned around on the soles of my feet with my wand clutched tight in the fist of my right hand, rearing out of my daze with a heavy shudder at the knowledge that I was carrying around my wand once again.

But I wanted to know more about that picture Harry had.

Shaking off my impending thoughts, I raced on out of the door, knowing my time was running low or most likely _out,_ to find my body skittering to a halt in the middle of the foyer, my body turning frozen in its place as something _heavy_ and _malicious_ started to trail its suffocating air around my still frame, my breath halting in the confines of my lungs as my heart gave one last stutter before it seemed to stop in its pulse as I felt a sensation that was threateningly, and magnetically familiar.

Harry’s magic.

Harry’s _presence._

To the front of the foyer, where the large entrance doors to the mansion resided, stood the tall, looming, lean and muscled figure of Harry Potter’s frame. His towering body blending into the dark of the mansion as the silhouette of his frame was unnervingly still, the pitch black strands of his unruly hair seeming to soak in the tenebrous air surrounding him as the eerie, terrifyingly beautiful glow of his ruby, emerald coated gaze hummed within the black of the night closing in on us.

I couldn’t _breathe._

The skin of my flesh went into a scorching temperature, the wet of my body quaking from where I stood, shocked and breathless as a high pitch ringing in my ears created a buzzing sensation to shimmer its way around the space of my skull, down the tip of my spine and into the warming space of my groin.

I could make out the way Harry’s muscles strained beneath the onslaught of his dark T-Shirt, cords of his muscles defined in their hardened state as the fabric pressed softly against the long line of his hard abs, his posture laid back and hunched over into somewhat of a predatory fixation, eyes fixed on my prone figure.

Harry gave no emotion away, expression devoid of any feeling as that unearthly unsettling stare of his stayed on my person that dripped in sopping wet clothes.

My time was up.

I lost immediately.

I took too long.

Oh _fuck._

Silence surrounded us, my chest aching to release the air I held within my chest for fear of making any movement of minute motion in case I made a small sound that broke the hush around both Harry and I in this large fucking mansion.

I felt _watched._

I felt like absolute _prey._

And then the assassin spoke, voice monotonous yet _deep,_ dripping like molten lava from the cupid bow shaped curves of his mouth and winding its way around my flesh to dig its way into my bones and settle there enough to rattle the very foundations of my being, wickedly deceptive in its calm drawl. “I found you.”

“Ngh.” I made a sound in the depth of my throat in response, unintelligible as my eyes tore away from Harry’s figure to the set of the winding large stairs and back to Harry who watched me with a sort of severe gleam in the brilliant of his eyes.

The urge to run was high.

And I did. 

Yelping out loud in the quiet of the mansion, I skittered across the marble floor with the wet, naked flesh of my feet slapping across the ground as I ran straight towards the stairs and started to jog up the steps in a panicked, reckless trek, my lungs aching now from the fast breaths I was releasing out of the part of my mouth while the ringing in my ears grew louder in terror and heated adrenaline.

Nearing the first set of large space the stairs catered to, I whipped my head around, my wand gripped tight in my hand, to see Harry’s frame shrouded in darkness at the bottom of the staircase, my body jolting on the spot as my mouth popped open to release a strained, pathetic squeak out of my lips when a strike of lighting and the grumbling of thunder suddenly burst forth and echoed throughout the entirety of the mansion.

The glow of the purple streak of lighting spread out over the contours of Harry’s face, hardened and striking in the defined slope of his cheekbones and strong jawline, causing the glow of his red green eyes to flicker with the electric amethyst hue of the lightning playing over his body and features.

The man watched me from where he stood at the bottom of the stairs, a slow uptick on the side of his succulent lips rising into a salacious, downright _filthy_ and sinister grin that was all sharp and aberrant, flashing the pearly white of his teeth in the shadows around us. Mocking. Cruel. And delighting in the panic and arousal he knows he’s instilled me.

To make matters worse, the assassin made a tiny shift in his still motion, leaning slightly forward and tipping his head down to let the disheveled black of his locks fall over the glow of his crimson, jaded gaze as he let the broad of his back show the lines of his muscled shoulder blades, crouching the tiniest bit low in a look of animalistic intent.

Harry looked ready to hunt me down.

And my level of panicked heat rose up into inflamed proportions as I swung the width of my wand out, a burst of energizing magic coursing through my veins, untapped for years and dizzying in its rush of sparking vibrancy that I haven’t felt and thought that I’d never felt in _forever,_ the abrupt reflex to keep myself safe causing my body to react on its own.

I yelled out a spell that was too fast for my brain to catch up on, my mouth running faster than my mind could fathom.

My eyes, widening further in their state of horror stricken fear and astonishment, caught sight of a nearby lamp that was attached to one of the walls but wasn’t lit up next to Harry’s head, manifest into a zest of shimmering explosive fire sparks and implode, the sound of a crackle and sizzle popping loud from beneath the sounds of thunder and lighting as well as the in between quiet the mansion provided while the energy I emitted from my wand with a hysteric wave scorched the lamp.

I should _not_ have done that.

Harry simply turned his head towards the now broken small lantern and stared at it for a few seconds, only to tilt his head my way once again, agonizingly slow and covetous like in its disturbingly observant manner as the assassin raised a dark brow up at me and the shape of his mouth curled more into a carnal smirk.

That’s when I saw the shape of Harry’s pitch black wand in the right of his relaxed hand, the bottom stem of his ominous wand gangly and silky smooth to the touch and sight, catered between the lax of his long, dexterous strong fingers.

When my eyes drew down to the wand settled in Harry’s hand, the man let the stick shift through the splay of space between his fingers, flicking it around in an easy gesture, nonchalant as he practically swung the dangerous object within his hand, his eyes settled onto the unnerved features of my warmed face, a sense of dread and a zing of heat shooting straight into my prick and flooding it with consuming blood and _warmth._

Harry wouldn’t use his wand on me.

He wouldn’t-

“ _O-oh._ ” I interrupted my own worried thoughts with the spew of my stuttered words running out of my worried mouth. The influx of my tone rendering into a sort of cautious pitch, as if  that one stuttered word would stop Harry from giving my heart an attack of its harsh pulse in complete utter fascinated terror, confused in my want for Harry to show me his magic usage through his wand but oh so bloody fearful of it.

And with the way Harry played with his wand in his hands, the bastard knew what he was doing to me.

Harry won’t hurt me.

I jumped on the apex of my feet when Harry flipped his wand up into a series of rounding spirals before letting it land softly in the palm of his outstretched, awaiting hand, popping out of existence once again and leaving an empty space where his wand once was in his palm.

Jesus fucking _christ._

My breath left me when Harry did such an action.

That was a _warning._

For me to bloody behave.

And when the Gryffindor emitted a sadistic, dull humored chuckle that wrenched its way into the center of my abdomen to cause a riotous tremor to rake over my flesh, my body went into overdrive and did a flighty movement.

I twisted back around in a swift twirl, breath hitching in the space of my thundering chest as I let out a hiss of aroused terror, my feet slamming against the set of stairs once again, feeling the sensation of a heady prominence of thinned air, nauseating and creating a high like countenance in the entirety of my brain.

I didn’t hear Harry’s footsteps at all.

Why couldn't I hear it?

Peaking out to the side and behind me with a turn of my head as I tracked up the stairs in my move to escape Harry’s catch of my figure, I found Harry  still at the bottom set of the steps, watching me with that teasing, raw grin of his.

And I wasn’t going to stop running.

Nope.

Fuck.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!_

Making it halfway up the steps, I took a stride onto the other set of the winding stairs only to yelp out, my voice cracking in its tone with a shaking tremor, when I heard a footfall of another's steps _right_ behind me, my heart taking one huge slam against my ribcage when I tried to quicken my steps further.

But then hot fingers slipped their way casually into the top hem of my skirt behind me, too fast and with such an abrupt motion, that the bare of my feet stumbled about in surprise as my mouth released a wet gasp as I felt my skirt being tugged backwards and my body lilting forwards towards the wide stairs, inhumanely fast.

I squealed out loud, tipping over as I felt my body become weightless and snapped my arms and hands out to collide them over the flat, smooth granite of the stairs when I felt the whole of my front press roughly flushed against the large space of the step. I found my forearms  resting on the surface of the stairs my body sprawled out over as my fingers dug into the ledge of the next step, my hair going every which way in my field of vision as a hot and hard line of a tall body pressed tight against my back.

I scrambled my nails further into the edge of the stair above me, a shiver spiraling down my back when I felt a burning, long and large cock shove its way over the wet of my skirt, settling between the space of my arsecheeks with a harsh push that made my head whip back at the feeling of a cock persistently pushing through my skirt but not having penetrated, the line of my throat bared as I arched down into a delicate bow like shape as I rose the apex of my bum up to meet that large dick against my arse.

An immediate, slutty response on my end.

A mewl, tiny and kittenish, bubbled up out of my working throat, lips popping open wide as my low lidded pale eyes stared up at the inclining staircases coveted in darkness and flicks of lightning spilling through the large window with the milky froth light of the opal moon splashing over the granite of the steps.

Heat radiated from the body pressed against my back, slamming me further down onto the soft of my belly in my wet figure as I became a trapped specimen beneath the form crowding in on me like an all consuming force. Lips, soft and warm, slipped over the left of my earlobe, a heated breath falling over my gooseflesh there and making me let out a hesitant whimper as the low timbre of Harry’s voice mocked me in that cruel gruff tone of his. “Did you think you could run from me?”

_Oh fucking hell._

“H-Harry!” I squeaked out my words, voice high and breathless when a feverish desire rocked over my frame and made me squirm beneath the man pushing down on me, my bum rising and tilting from side to side as a frantic neediness coursed through my livewired bloodstream and made me let out an obscene, shattering moan that bounced off of the walls of the mansion.

I can’t _wait_ anymore.

Harry caught me.

I’m his.

 _Fuck_.

I couldn’t help but roll my hips into the floor beneath me, my prick pressed hard against the surface as it throbbed in time to the ticking pulse of my fast heart beat that filtered through my ears and hummed lowly there, my body having a mind of its own as I bent further onto my belly and arched my arse up higher, wanton and bloody fucking _whorish._

“Answer me, Princess.” The low tone of Harry’s voice shuddered into my frame, my breath stuttering out of my mouth as I whined with my head falling forward and the tendrils of my pale hair touching the granite floor beneath me, pressing the top of my head against the flat ledge of the stair I dug my fingers into above me.

“N-no, _Erus_.” It was on reflex how the latin slipped forth out of my mouth in my wake of hysteric want, Harry’s body becoming stiff above my writhing frame as I tried to shimmy my body out from underneath the assassin’s so I could take a break and calm down the flustered horny energy that had taken shocking solace in my trembling body.

I was fucking embarrassing myself.

I looked like the desperate virgin I was. I had to be collected,and calm. I wanted to show Harry that I can control myself when I’m around him-

“A-ah! F-f-f-fu-uhk” I yelled with a shrill in my cracking voice when Harry let out a low hum that vibrated over my left ear and sent electricity down into my cock, his tone dropping an octave lower than usual as he let out a growl etched in threatening vulgarity when I felt the heat of  Harry’s hands creep up the sides of my ribs over my wet clothes, bunching up the fabric between his fingers and easily tearing the top away from body in a tick of a movement, a blurring motion that left me in a hazed state as my body jolted with such a rough pull of the material covering me, like I was a life size doll that the assassin was toying with.

The ripping of my clothes were deafeningly loud within the mansion.

And then I felt the warmth of Harry’s clothed covered abs and broad chest press hard against my back again. But this time, I was bare at the flesh there and could feel the scorch of Harry's defined chest and abdomen across my back even more, sinfully so.

My top was shredded apart across the staircase floor around me.

But my skirt was still on me, except it was no longer wet and the garter belts were nowhere to be seen on my person nor around me..

Harry must have wandlessly used magic on my skirt and let it dry out.  

_That was … fucking hot._

_Oh gods._

“Now lift that arse up higher for me, Kitten. You need to work for my cock and I need to hear you beg before getting my dick like you want, my pretty little virgin _slut._ Ask for it. Scream for it. Be the whore that you want to be for me, Princess, or else this ends here and I’ll leave you _needy_.” Harry murmured his words, demanding and dark, into the shell of skin behind my left ear, the soft of his bottom lip dragging up the slope of my neck where it met my shoulder near the top of my spine, the sharp prick of his bottom teeth scraping along my shivering flesh there as he let out a deceptive, crude huff of amused air there.

I keened, moistened and mingling in with a stuttering exhale of a breath from the bliss embedded gape of my mouth at the low of Harry’s command brushing featherlight over my skin, his teeth an alarming euphoric sensation over my flesh.

And I went red at the chest, neck and cheeks at the dirty words the Gryffindor spoke out loud.

_Harry is the devil himself._

I'm going to  _die._

 


	13. Amatory: An Incendiary (Part 2: The Accipiens)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the long awaited chapter. Sorry for the wait and delays, forgive me. But the story is still ongoing and not ever going to be dropped. Thank you to those who have been reading my story and giving me support and as well loving my work. Now go on and read. The next update is still yet to be pronounced because I have another story I'm working on. So an update should be coming sometime in October. And then plan to post up a new story and then an update shall appear for Tenebrous. Sorry for the delay, I hope you all understand!
> 
> Read on, ya perverts!

  _Draco_

 

A blush, heavy and thick like the running of slick and heated honey over silken sheets, overflowed across the expanse of my upper chest, over the sweat of my arched, svelte throat, and across the space of my cheeks.

I was turning into a maddening shade of wine kissed red.

And in the divot of my spine, bowed in its curved state from how my arse was stuck up in the air at the sudden burst of tingling arousal overshadowing the entirety of my frame at simply being touched by Harry Potter, was a drop of my own warmed swelter.

_Harry wants you to be needy for him._

_To show the assassin how much you desire him._

I felt the flesh of my body grow even warmer from replaying the words Harry just spoke, lowly, out loud.

I was so bloody _embarrassed_ at the abstract realization of exactly what position I was currently in, and my display of open depraved _want_ for a man that has driven me off the wall with frustrated, saddened, psychotic, need.

Hell.

I’ve never felt this way before.

I’ve never known what it feels like to be exposed in front of someone, emotionally and physically. It was both thrilling and terrifying.

And I was fucking mortified!

There was a shameful countenance that clouded the confines of my head, an embarrassing prominence that shook my frame from how willingly slutty I became in a quickened motion for Harry. The single fact that I was completely inexperienced in anything involving intimacy compared to this Gryffindor who surely had many boys sheathed on his cock, was rather nerve wracking.

I’m a _virgin._

And I was pityingly desperate for Harry.

I’ve never been like _this._

What the fuck am I doing!?

“H-Harry … do you really want this? I-I-I’m not experienced and I’m not that good looking nor-” My voice broke off into a shrill squeak, interrupting my stream of nerved words, when I felt the heat of Harry’s large, heated hands curl the long of his burning fingers around the width of the front of my thighs. The Gryffindor dug the blunt of his nails sharply into the apex sensitivity of my flesh to grasp ahold of the trembling of my limbs in an ironclad grip to forcefully and with a careless ease, yank my legs further apart and shove me up onto the weak of my knees, my breath whooshing out of my lungs with a stuttered sort of air as Harry caused my arse to perch up high into the air.

My breaths quickened significantly as the beating of my heart went rioting against my chest as I felt Harry release my right thigh from his death grip only to feel the slamming heat of his wide palm collide against the low point of my spine. I released a wet gasp from the shocking, delirious part of my lips, the sound shattering against the striking noise of thunder resonating within the mansion.

The assassin let his palm on my spine, run down the slope of my curved back, pressing down upon my frame with a heavy, steady dominance that caused my chest to concave upon itself with the amount of oxygen I tried to feed off on as a clear demand from the man above and behind me slipped its way into my bones and settled there, molten and alarmingly feverish.

Harry’s voice created a violent shudder to race down my bowed back, his words echoing the silent demand that was evident in the possessive, threatening touch he procured upon my figure, dripping in sinister delighted malice as his tone rumbled above me. “Arse up, face down.”

Oh _my._

Fucking hell.

Shite!

A tiny moan, moist and keening from the quivering of my mouth and the rattling cage of my chest through the working tandems of my overwhelmed throat, spilled out, high and rapturing in an ashamed arousal from hearing such a dirty thing come from Harry Potter’s mouth.

And yet I was still so absurdly mortified at the situation I found myself in, too insecure to follow through with Harry’s demand for the sole reason of fearing he wouldn’t like what he sees or feels when he creates pleasure upon my person, the hysteria of my low self-esteem an annoying tick in the back of my skull that I wanted to claw away at and scurry it back into its cellar of self induced depravity.

_You finally get what you want._

_To be fucked and become Harry’s._

_Yet you halt everything in place for the mere presence of your insecurities._

_Stupid._

_Pathetic._

So in the midst of my heated panic, in frustration with myself and the unsettling fear of Harry not wanting me after seeing me like _this_ and _more_ , I felt the tendrils of my unruly hair lick over the expanse of my bare shoulders and cheeks at the shaking motion of my head, side to side in a hurried, embarrassed focus with my breaths wheezing passed my lips while words spewed forth out of my mouth. “You don’t want this. This was a mistake-I-I’m not what you want. There’s nothing good about m-me. I-I’m useless and not someone who’s a-a-attracti-!” The last of my words were prevented by the sound of my own shout of exclamation when I felt Harry wrap the length of his strong, muscled forearm across the front of both my thighs to pull my wobbling limbs towards his knelt form above me and cause my arse to go even _higher_ up into the air, the ache in my knees throbbing as I felt them slip over the granite of the steps in my wet state and become spread out into a filthy sprawl.

The swift motion made my body tilt to the side, my eyes widening in befuddled warmth as a yelp sounded sudden from my lips when Harry let the hand he had over my spine lift up and off of my back only to roughly grasp the back of my head with the whole of his free palm and brutally give a simple push upon my skull to cause my face to slap against the flat of the stair that I laid out over, the right side of my cheek pressing against the ground as I felt myself trapped with the assassin’s hand pushing my face down and rising my arse up against the heat of his hard, large and long cock.

My hands, which had been left limp at my sides, procured a burst of energy and  immediately snapped up to slap the heat of my slick palms against the next steps flat ledge. I subconsciously let the tips of my fingers push against the surface as the rest of my frame went somewhat lax except for the occasional shudders rocking my body whole from Harry’s touch and body over my own.

“You know what?” The assassin's voice hardened into a low drawl, all velveteen smooth and a touch of desensitivity as he continued to talk above me with another tug up on my thighs to get my bum to rest harder against his probing cock and my knees to spread wider. “I hated the way you fucking walked around in Hogwarts with that  bubbly, perky arse of yours. It made me want to lose the control I’ve cultivated over years of being the “Chosen One” and pull you up and over my lap so I could pull those tight trousers of yours off and then beat your juicy bum black and blue while I tongue fuck your pretty pink princess cunt. And your smile, how very rare it was to see it, was captivating and rather ethereal when I first saw it in the library when we were eighteen and you were reading your potions books in the corner near the back window.” Harry let out a roughened grunt then, the tone deepening further into an almost demonic resonance that made the inner space of my chest quake with such a brutal sound.

Harry proceeded to swiftly, and with precise, nonchalant ease, roll his hips in an agonizingly slow motion, just once, against the arch of my arse, the sensuous movement bringing my bum up higher as the man pressed _hard_ over my skirt clad arse and made my front drag up the flat of the step, my gasp sounding out loud in unadulterated ecstasy as I was forced to curve my spine some _more_.

“I enjoyed the way you spoke up in each class we had together whenever the professor called on you to answer a question. Those cocksucking lips of yours formed eloquently around the vowels in your seraphic, soft and downy voice. Posh and haughty yet intellectual in its tone. It was addicting to listen to you drone on and on with your answers. You still sound that way. Your arse has gotten even more plump in this tight, petite body you have with the perfect amount of slim, filthy curves you carry around with you.” Harry murmured darkly down at me as he let the hand pressing down on the back of my head, inch the long heat of his fingers through the mess of my strands and grab a fist full of my pale locks to tug my head back in a whiplash motion that made me cry out in warmed pain.

The pull of my hair, harsh and violent, induced prickling sensations to run rampant over my scalp, a burning ache that made my prick shamefully harden as the thrumming of my blood pumped wildly into my groin and spread out like an inferno of wanton flames. My neck strained as it was brought back, my back arching like some two cent whore as my head was pulled to the side by the cruel tug on my strands and backwards. Harry’s handsome face leaned down to place the line of his cupid bow shaped lips over the bare of my convulsing throat, dark and _sadistically_ alluring as those red green eyes of his glowed within the shadowed hues of the night surrounding us while he stared me down. “You’ve got wit. You’re strong minded and stubborn, but endearing and beautiful in the silent strength you wear within and around your delicate body. You’re unpredictable, a curious little kitten that uses his claws when his buttons get pushed to the brink of his carefully constructed control. I like the challenge you bring. I like the way you act bitchy but in reality, are a sensitive being that really just wants everyone happy in their own way. So _pure_ yet open to the darkness that surrounds you and has festered inside of you since you were a child with that endearing curiosity you have. You survived in the best way you could and I admire that for what it is. You’re a contradiction of wrong and right and I want to completely burrow myself within you and dirty you up some more, make you go _mad_ and unhinged. You were always seen as ‘untouchable’ by everyone and you still are, but I finally have a hold of you and I want to make you _break._ ”

I was shaking now, the breaths escaping my mouth shocking and breaking in its foundation as I listened to every word Harry spoke out with a ringing fruition in my heated ears.

The rising bumps on my flesh caused my body to quake where it was strewn out across the floor, the large round of my eyes stuck on the harsh gaze the assassin bored into my own as he watched the way my bottom lip wobbled slightly from the rush of emotions flooding my senses, my insecurities rioting inside my head as I replayed each statement that released out of the Gryffindor’s mouth.

Harry was complimenting me. And both my mind and body shook at the Gryffindor’s words about me. Scared, shocked, and mortified yet filled with a sort of crazed, awestruck giddiness at the praise the man spoke of.

Harry’s breath brushed over my naked neck, wet and hot, as he pulled my head to the side some more and brought the soft of his lips over the flesh that was open to his taking, his mouth covering the white of my skin and puncturing my throat with the prick of his teeth, stabbing his mouth into me as the muscles in his jaw ticked and locked in its defined lines as he bit me.

My lips opened wide to emit no cadence of a sound as my body jerked in Harry’s hold, electricity winding and shooting down into the pit of my gut as my mouth flapped silently in surprised, rousing wake.

Harry’s bite _hurt_.

And the man wouldn’t stop jabbing his teeth into my flesh.

Digging into and _marking_ me.

Harry ticked his jaw around my neck, capturing me and holding me hostage in the stabbing maw of his mouth while I writhed across the floor as my body fought itself in its need to run as far away from this avaricious, harsh man or to give into the salacious scorch he induced over and in me.

But I couldn't budge much of my limbs away from Harry’s body pressing over mine and his teeth clamping into me.

The assassin was immovable.  

I felt like the weakened prey that I was with Harry holding me still with his mere, ominous presence and threatening, heated possessive touch.

I was going to be _eaten alive._

I was inevitably captured.

The Gryffindor rumbled into my throat with a severe and callous thunderous inflection, dragging the edges of his teeth away and releasing the flesh he bit into his mouth only to run the warm of his lips down the column of my throat, following the thrumming vein that went in time with the fast tempo of my heartbeat, grazing the shivering skin there as he spoke. “Your eyes are a sin. Large and innocent in the vast grey, milky opal shimmer of their colors. Begging for attention that you don't know you seek. A watery scheme that makes the pastel white of your eyes glisten, to the point that it reminds me of glass. You constantly look like a porcelain doll to me, fragile and easy to shatter. It brings out the worst in me, the most sadistic, malicious intent all intermingled with that heavy carnal craving I have for both your mind and body. And that fucking hair of yours, long and unruly with its snow kissed strands so pale that it could be mistaken for an opal’s crystalline illuminance and tainted by nothing dark but light, makes me want to cover it in my own cum, especially over that pert, aristocratic and pixie like face of yours.”

The words Harry was speaking had made my throat close up in on itself, an ache settling like a warmed lump in the back of my throat as I swallowed around the burning sensation that clawed its way up in into my neck and clogged my airway.

I was trapped beneath this man with having nowhere to go but to stay beneath Harry’s

impending body. Harry was making me take in the words that he was giving away and forcing me to listen even when I didn’t want to or believed it all a lie.  

No one has ever told me they found me attractive.

Nor was I ever even told if I looked good enough from my parents.

Hearing Harry, someone whom I’ve had an obscene crush on for the past good few years, tell me about my body, my personality, and talking about how beautiful I was in that lull, deep tone of a voice that the assassin had, made some weight that felt pressured upon my skin like an ungodly self hatred, sift away from the trembling of my limbs and release a little of its suffocating hold on my conscience.

_Fuck._

My breaths came out stunted and unnerved in the wave of elated embarrassment I was suddenly put under.

Harry had calmed down the anxious insecurity that often took root into the deepest space of my stomach whenever I went too in-depth within myself, getting caught in the making of my own spiderweb of low self esteem.

Even without the stream of compliments that Harry was giving away, hearing the low sound of his enticing voice, made the erratic, panicked beating of my heart, slow down into that of a fast pace but not reaching past an hysteric pulse.

The sensation of taking the praise that Harry eluded out towards my person, caused my body to turn into a jello like state, all loose limbed and heaving out an essence of stress from inside of my frame as I positively _melted_ over the surface of the stairs I laid out across.

Harry hummed out loud then, a rumble of Stygian delight as he slowly disentangled the strands of my hair from around his straining fingers to let the heated tips of his appendages run down the curved slope of my naked spine and over the plump of my bum, eliciting my body to twitch over the stairs with a shiver that coursed through my pulsating veins as Harry suddenly whipped his hand away from my body and cracked the wide of his palm right over the flexing hole of my arse, the fabric of the skirt the only barrier between my naked bum and Harry’s hand.

I quite literally _squealed_ at the quick motion of the assassin’s slapping impact crashing over my pucker and making my front bounce up over the stairs hard enough to drag the perky points of my nipples across the ground, scraping them in a smooth fixation as I let out a breaking gasp at the _sting_ that spread out over both my arse cheeks from Harry’s slap.

“Now, I can go on and on about how bloody gorgeous and sexy you are, Draco. But right now, I want you to know that I want you, and only you and nothing will change that. You’re gorgeous, Kitten and I’m gone for you. You’re mine and I am yours. You won’t be able to escape from me now. So take me. Take _it._ Because I’ve grown impatient now and I want to have my cock inside of you since years ago. Now, open wide, _Princess._ ” Harry’s voice dropped into a sinister resonance, a violent tone trembling beneath the threatening fluctuation he emitted from the depth of his chest and throat.

And I _whimpered_ underneath the man that held me captive in response.

The only thing I could do to give my consent to the Gryffindor, to show him

that I wanted him to take me like the way he wanted, was the quivering shudder of my words that I whispered out loud from beneath the thunderous roil of the storm causing havoc outside of this wondrous mansion. A confession in sin that I will forever be tainted and ensconced by. “Yes, _Erus_.”

_Yes Master._

And he did.

With a filthy chuckle escaping the cupid bow shaped lips of Harry’s mouth, I felt the assassin’s arm tense up around the front of my bent thighs to pull me up and force the round of my bum to rub up along the hard length of his clothed cock, the heated friction of the swift yet harsh grind of Harry’s hips against my arse, making me keen out loud as my stomach dipped with a flare of sparks.

Harry’s free hand easily flipped the material of my skirt up over my bum to reveal the full pale, skin tone of my arsecheeks to the scorching ruby, emerald heated gaze of Harry’s eyes, and with a teasing tap of the assassin’s index finger at the upper right corner of my bum, the man murmured down to me with an almost predatory growl that seemed to coil dark and heavy around the fringes of my sanity. “Don’t tense up. I need you loose. I don’t want to shove my cock into this tight, virgin arse of yours for your first time and cause you to bleed. I’ll make you spill red when you want me to be the cruelty that I hold, but at the moment, I want to ease you into getting the rough fucking you deserve, need, as well as _crave_.”

With that, I let out a garbled wail when I felt the soft tip of Harry’s middle finger circle around the clenching hole of my arse, trailing that mocking appendage of his in a circle over the flexing rim of my pucker that twitched around empty air in its ashamed desire to take in what the assassin wanted to give me.

“H-Harry! Please.. F-fucking hurry up. Jesus f-f-fuck. Please, pleasepleaseplease, _Erus!_ ” I couldn't believe the shite that was coming out of my mouth, so needy and slutty in their rich, crazed and half out of their wits, tone escaping the confounding moue of my mouth.

When I gave a jerking, rolling motion of my hips backwards so I could ground my arse up against the warmed fabric covered large prick of Harry’s, the bastard let out a small _tsk_ of a chastising sound that made my skin tingle at every pore that my body carried as I yelped significantly high with my mouth popping open wide as the assassin suddenly shoved the whole length of his middle finger straight into my hole.

A slick and easy slide into me.

And I was _mewling_ around incoherent words when I felt the long, scorch of Harry’s fingers wriggle its way further and deeper into my arse with a slippery squelch that made me turn a beet red at the face and neck.

The damn assassin conjured up magical fucking _lube_ into my arse. I could tell. What with how easy Harry’s finger slipped into me and how my hole was now straining around a bundle of liquid and a penetrating appendage.

And-

“ _Ngh! F-f-fuh-huck”_ I yelled out in a broken sob when Harry crooked his middle finger inside of me and swirled as well as flicked the warmed appendage against the convulsing flex of my inner walls, nudging the point of his finger against something that made my whole body implode in on itself with shocking roils of fire and delirious arousal.

Oh it _burned_ and ached from the sudden shove of a finger, not my own nor not even from one of my dildos I have stocked in my apartment, into my arse, but fuck, if it didn’t _feel_ good to revel in the pain and pleasure that the penetration induced inside and outside of me. Especially since it was being done, not by myself as I always had done, but by someone whom I’ve imagined doing this to me for years.

“Found your prostate, Kitten.” Harry drawled out in that low, honey slick tone of his.

I wanted to feel that _again._

In the face of my own desperate desire to feel that same sensation once more, I pushed my arse up high into the air and let out a slutty, pitchy moan when Harry’s finger pressed firmly against that bundle of delicious nerves in my pucker and made my whole frame tremor in the wake of the vicious pleasure that exploded inside of me.

And Harry, the damn Devil that he was, clamped his arm like iron around my thighs and held me steady with the simple sheer force his strong hands and muscled arms across my limbs, impeding upon my determination to fuck myself on Harry’s finger and causing me to emit a whorish whine of frustrated heat that flooded my hard cock and the inner turmoil of my gut.

_Ohfuckohfuck._

“Harry! Please. N-need you to finger fuck me. Come on, _Erus_ , please. I-I need you. I need to get _fuck-e-e-d,_ been wanting this for s-so long!” The last of my desperate words were cut off by the screech of my own voice when Harry held me immobile with his death grip to ease his finger out of my hole but with a blindingly fast motion that I couldn’t grasp onto with the prominence of my human mind, rammed his finger straight into my spasming pucker to drag the heat of his smooth appendage teasingly against my insides and smash into my prostate with malicious precision.

My head lifted up off of the ground from where I laid limp across the floor to snap it back in unadulterated striking bliss as I let out a small squeak like small moan, my hair falling backwards to cascade over the sweat that covered in a thin sheen over the tops of my curved back, bum bouncing as well as my lax limbs, over the wet countenance of the granite floor while I shivered in the wake of my ecstasy.

And then my world was turned on its axis.

With Harry’s finger twisting inside of me and puncturing against my prostate with a constant stream of violent jabs into my arse, my ears had suddenly started to thrum from the loud, screeching keen I was emitting out of my moist, slacken mouth as I was forced onto the flat of my back, my vision going blurry with darkened colors for a few seconds before I came face to face with Harry’s breathtakingly gorgeous one.

And I fucking hiccuped when I watched the deep pulsating blood red of Harry’s eyes shadow over into a burgundy hue within the jade that mixed together with the red while the man leaned his head down and brutally, without a given warning, shoved the apex of his muscled upper clothed thigh straight between the spread of my legs and against my groin and arse, slamming against the finger he had shoved into my hole with a rapacious, savage plunder.

I swiftly _screamed._

The sound I created was _broken_. It made my very ears ring with mortification and a prickling ache.

Harry’s one, heated finger, was persistently crashing into my prostate, and I was becoming a wanton mess of dysfunctional moans and squealing as the vertebrae of my spine ground itself across the slick stone floor of the staircase with every inhumanely quick shove of Harry’s finger into my arse.

My hands, swiftly feeling the rush of energized blood slipping into their fingers, lashed out in abandon to grab onto Harry’s broad, predatory shoulders to scrabble my nails into the clothed flesh of his skin as I whined breathlessly like a cat in heat, lost in my daze of pleasure as my eyes were stuck on Harry’s ominous, punishingly aggressive and possessive gaze while the wisps of his charcoal hued disheveled locks fell forward to curtain the demonic presence of his gaze.

“Oh, Kitten. You’re a fucking slut, aren’t you. Beg me for more, hhhmm.” Harry’s mouth curved up slowly into a salacious grin, etched in the malevolent, musing, provocative curled lines of his lips that made the very breath I barely had any hold onto, leave the cage of my body and hover mockingly above me. Harry’s voice came out  similar to that of the most monstrous creature, hidden and patient for its next victim, deep and grumbling with a ferocity that made me rock my hardened cock and arse against Harry’s penetrating finger and strong thigh.

The Gryffindor took his other hand, now released from around my thighs, and took hold of my left knee in a grinding grip to easily pull apart my left leg from my right to cause my thighs to spread out in a whorish manner and leave me in a “spread eagle” position, my skirt fluttering over the hard line of my prick that stood up from between my open legs.

Harry immediately situated himself into the open V of my thighs with his right, large one, making sure to keep his one finger pushing in and out of my hole with each collision of his appendage against my prostate constantly and giving no relent or break upon my quaking person.

I was breathing rapidly, my chest heaving up and down as Harry leaned over me to reel his thigh away from my straining pick and arse and shove it back up against my prick and arse, my breath hitching in my throat and getting caught in my chest as I spluttered about in a treble of shuddering, incoherent words.

My whole body moved up the surface of the stairs, my back rubbing up the granite slope with Harry’s easy action.

Over and over again.

I was losing my ever loving _mind._

“Harry! Please! F-fuck me already. Shove your cock into m-m-me. Can’t wait no more-” My words were cut off by the abrupt press of Harry’s mouth against my own, my eyes snapping open wide from their low lidded haze as I felt the heated press of Harry’s lips over mine, smooth and consuming my very being as I felt the Gryffindor’s mouth pry my own open with such fine finesse.

He tasted like cigars and mint.

I fucking _loved_ it.

 _“Open your  mouth. Be a good boy for me, Princess._ ” Harry’s voice came out in that low timbre of a tone of his, vibrating the inner workings of my chest as I gasped into Harry’s mouth, my lips falling open as I shivered from the demanding drawl of the assassin’s lips working over my own, impending and dark in the way they forced my mouth open for his to take.

Harry consumed my mouth whole.

His tongue flicked out to slip its way over the heat of my gums, causing my cock to twitch and drip a dapple of cum from the tip of my prick beneath my skirt, slow and sure in his descent in fucking my mouth with his own. Harry's tongue pushed passed mine with a possessive streak to clash our teeth together in a click of aggression.

Oh.

_Oh, he tasted wonderful._

The assassin thrusted the heat of his long tongue in time with the shoving of his finger in and out of my spasming hole, the shivering of my frame turning into short bursts of twitches and spasms that had my whines growing hotter and higher in their intonation as I shook across the floor.

My breaths were unsteady and rapid, my hips having a mind of their own as I did a figure eight motion of a rolling with my lower half, dragging the length of my cock up the slope of Harry’s thigh, a fever pitch building at the base of my spine.

Harry chuckled wickedly into my open lips as he gave a particularly harsh _stab_ of his finger into me and made me yelp into his domineering mouth.

And holy _hell,_ despite how much I denied it, I loved how fucking _cruel_ Harry can be.

I quickened my pace, humping against Harry’s thigh and bouncing myself over his thrusting finger like some drunken slut, my mouth turning into molasses  as a long drawn out moan escaped my working lips against Harry’s.

I gripped the fabric of the Gryffindor’'s shirt harder, tugging at the material and watching the way my knuckles strained a stark white against the onslaught of my skin with how tight of a grip I had on Harry’s shoulders, clawing my nails into his flesh and down the muscular jut of his shoulder blades as he towered over me and crowded the whole of my space.

A slow leisure of a smirk formed at Harry’'s lips when I started to continuously grind harder and faster against him, his finger pushing, pushing and _pushing_ while my weeping cock cried out for release from all the grinding I was doing against the man’s thigh. “H-Harry!"

He let out a low hum, the rumbling of his enticing baritone shaking beneath my chest and fluttering over my lips as he clamped his teeth over the jut of my bottom lip and dragged it down with his mouth, aberrant and arduous in his bite while his tongue played with my own.

"Your not lifting your hips up enough". Harry mused.

I shifted, rising my lower half the slightest as I inched up his leg and to his upper thigh, to snap down in a rush, creating delicious burning tingles up my spine and back down.

I yelped out, surprised at the swooping sensation in the pit of my gut swindling down into my groin, making my cock throb _painfully._

 "O-oh, ah! F-f-fuck".  I whimpered between my harsh breathing, words spewing from my mouth in a scramble of babble as heat coiled tighter inside of me, higher and higher, burning in its trailing scorch of a touch.

Jesus fucking Christ!

I felt like I would combust at any moment, rubbing wantonly across Harry's thigh and the knowledge that this was _Harry_ , the “Chosen One”, of which I'm shamelessly grinding on, had my toes curling in on themselves, legs shaking as overwhelming heat built more into the space of my lower stomach.

My feet brushed the floor beneath me as Harry shoved his way further between my thighs, legs bending as the tips of my toes caressed the floor in their suspension while my lips opened wider, trying to suck in enough air to stave off on.

All the while, Harry kept watching me with the dark glow of his eyes, observant and _raw._ “Such a fucking whore”. Harry mumbled his words, voice dropping into a half animalistic growl and groan as he went back to shoving his lips and tongue over my own while ramming his finger harder into me.

How could someone who was the embodiment of a “savior”, seem the exact opposite right now.

The Devil’s incarnate, this man was.

"N-no".  I rasped out loud my broken words, trying to at least seem like I had some semblance of a conscience left. Harry calling me a by such a derogatory term was supposed to anger me right? I gasped out in rapture despite how wrong this was, because I fucking loved hearing him say such vulgar words and referring me to them.

Harry leaned down and shoved his thigh further into my groin and arse, bringing my legs up significantly more and causing my toes to create a wisp of air between the ground and my dangling feet, having my body practically hanging off of Harry's thigh. My spine dug into the smooth floor below me as I started to whine and thrash about across the ground in bewildered scorch.

The pressure increased spontaneously in the dip of my spine, my grinding growing frenzied. Harry’s breath fanned over the hollow off my left cheek as he released his addicting, sinful mouth away from mine, eyes peering down at me to elicit a devoir keen up and out of my working throat.

I felt trapped, and too hot and oh so _possessed_ by this man.

I _soaked_ in it.

Harry was fucking his finger into my arse harder now.

“Come on, _Kitten_ ”. Harry murmured in that heavy, corrupted tongue of his, the sound rolling out and over his smooth voice.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah! Yes, oh gods please, please, please! Ngh, mph! oh f-fuck! Harry!” My cock pulsed painfully as I cried out, mouth opening in a silent yell as I spilled my seed in copious amounts beneath my skirt, my prick bursting out my arousal as I seized across the granite floor.

The release was a white hot blinding sensation, making my head shake back and forth in unbelievably overbearing euphoria as the back of my head cracked against the floor beneath me while my back arched like it was in a shape of a bridge.

I came and came, wet seeping into the fabric of my skirt, my hips twitching from the aftershocks of my bursting orgasm.

I whined, body shivering as I turned into a rag doll against the solid ground and the hard planes of Harry’s lean and muscular frame that pressed against my soft and supple one.

But I didn’t get any rest.

Within a spitting, blurring motion, I felt Harry release a growl that resembled something akin to an unholy snarl, the sound hedonistic and ravenous enough to make the blissed out daze of my gaze focus enough to catch the split second of the carnal sneer curling up on the side of Harry’s lips, all animal and _wrong_ , before I felt my upper thighs being gripped by both of the man’s hot hands to be violently shoved apart from one another some more. My widened sprawl emitted the muscles in my slim thighs to shake and scream out in agonized, desirous discomfort.

But I could care less about that.

And with a screech of Harry’s name snapping the silence of the mansion surrounding us with the occasional thunderous rumble, I watched the fly of Harry’s jeans zip down, and the waistband of his pants fall across the narrow of his defined hip bones to show the large, monstrous cock that jutted out in angry red and protruding veins that ran along the meaty girth of his horse hung dick.

Harry eased his heated finger from out of my hole, a gushing squishing noise popping out of my pucker as I felt a trail of lube slip its way down between my bumcheeks, a filter of air caressing the enlarged aching rim of my hole, loose and gaping from the finger fucking it was put under a mere few seconds ago.

“Time to take what’s mine and has _always_ been mine, Draco.” I couldn't recognize Harry’s voice. It was otherworldly and ethereal in its disastrous cadence of discordance, deep like tones. It was a damnation of a voice.

It was dark and held all that of which was tenebrous.

And with my body shaking in the aftermath of my first mind blowing orgasm, Harry snapped his hips forward and reamed his cock straight into my worn out hole.

I fucking _lost_ it.

“ _rus!!”_ My voice cracked at the seams, going higher in its gasping, wet mewls as Harry shoved the entirety of his large, ten inch cock, into the deepest parts of my myself and made my inner walls stretch to its capacity and create his own sheath of a meat sock for himself, touching the sore points of my prostate with such an immoral drive that the top back of my head slammed against the flat ledge of the step above the one I laid out over when I whipped it back in a filthy _need,_ my spine curving abnormally into a more bowed shape while the Gryffindor’s dick drilled into me with a burning _hurt_ that I writhed for.

“That’s right, scream my name, Baby. I’m your owner. You belong to me. _Only_ me.” Harry brought his mouth down in time with the violent slam of his cock into me again, easing his way out of my hole where his prick barely made a breadth of contact with the rim if my pucker, to punch his way into me and make me yelp out loud as I shook underneath Harry.

The man liked the sound of my shout what with the way Harry let out a sinister, snarling moan while he punched his hips with a ruthless grind of his cock against my prostate with a given barbarous thrust of his dick into me.

Fuck.

 _“Ohgodsohgodsohgodsohfuckinghell!”_ My mouth was a stream of quick words that I couldn’t quite hear through the white noise bursting forth in my ear drums as my prick started to, shockingly, fill up with my pulsating blood and harden once more, prickling with pain in having another round of arousal fill it once more while Harry plundered into me with such great force that I had to snap my hands up and lay the palm of my sweat slick hands against the ledge of the stair above me to keep from knocking myself out with how my head was practically banging itself against the ledge from Harry fucking into my body.

But I was growing _weak._

Everything in my limbs were loosening, even my hole was becoming larger around Harry’s huge, beast of a cock. The agonizing pleasurable ramming of the Gryffindor’s prick consistently going in and out of my hole causing a riot of fire induced sensation inside of my gut.

I felt _stunted_ and incredulous at the amount of warmth gathering inside of my abdomen and teasing my flesh in winding curls of desire.

For more.

And _more_.

“Moremoremoremore!” I was screaming around the pathetic mewl of my shattering gasps and weak voice, the burning in my hole decidedly ebbing away enough to let the brilliant, terrifying bliss overtake every logical thought in my brain and every nook and cranny in my body as my frame dragged up and down over the floor from the impact of Harry’s defined hips puncturing against my own with such a cruel slam that I was starting to hyperventilate in overbearing pleasure.

It was _too_ much.

This man’s cock was too much.

 _Fuck!_ Harry was too much!

It was as if … a fucking storm was ready to happen between the two of us like the one occurring around the mansion right now.

Harry’s eyes were focused on the wriggling sweat of my naked shape, illuminate in their eery green red stare as he watched me moan and cry out from every push of his cock into my arse, digging his way into me while he impaled my body over and over without let up, making me _take him_ like some object that he could do whatever he wanted with.

And I was.

Harry was shaping me out to be his slut and his only object of desire to use and abuse.

And I loved every second of it.

I got _off_ on it.

I watched the way Harry’s exposed hard rock abs tensed and relaxed beneath the flitter of his shirt that rose up whenever the Gryffindor dug his cock into me with malicious intent, coveting me with the blunt of his fingers jabbing and leaving crescent moon shaped marks over the top sides of my thighs where he held me spread open for his taking.

His hair was chaotic with the unruly, pitch black, obsidian locks gleaming in the night’s moonshade as the tips of his disheveled strands licked away at his defined cheekbones and the harsh slope of his ticking jaw as he observed the way I started to sob out like a child that had been spanked over twenty times for their wrong doings.

I was going to pass the fuck out!

It was so bloody _good._

“Your boy pussy is sucking me in so good. Greedy and needy for my cock. I’ll turn you into my toy, Kitten. Fuck, you’re beautiful and sexy and _all mine._ ” Harry’s groaned out his words in a deep tone as he dragged my limbs towards his lower half while at the same time shoved his cock rapidly up and _into_ me, pressing against my prostate with malevolent accuracy while I started to claw my fingers into the ledge behind me with a fever pitch.

All the sounds I could make were incoherent to the human ears.

I was losing it.

My mind was falling into a pit of white, black static that made my head go dizzy with spots that flooded my vision in incoming hazed pleasure.

I wasn’t going to last long.

“I’m going to come. I’mcomingI’mcomingI’mcoming!” My voice was shrill, panicked in the shock of my arousal as Harry simply yanked me forward in time with his upward, brutal thrust that slammed so deep into me that the the whole of my body had started to convulse as my hole sucked down over the girth and length of Harry’s dick while the penetrating meat of the assassin’s shoved even _deeper._

I was going to come. Again.

That simple fact was terrifying. Harry was _making_ me come again.

I slid down the wet granite surface with a squeak from my mouth and a squelch of my hole working over Harry’s plundering cock, slipping over the surface as I downright screamed bloody murder when the Gryffindor fucked into me harder and _faster,_ pricking his way into me as if his goal was to nestle his whole being within the space of my body.

Fucking.

And fucking.

_And fucking._

Again, and again, and againagainagain!

A rousing wash of heat zipped down my groin and imploded from the tip of my cock, the pleasure hot and fast as I was being made into Harry’s _destruction._ He fucked me out, dicking me down and form fitting me to his cock like he was shaping me into his own fleshlight, my arse in pain from the abuse it was being put under while my prostate was weeping from the constant jab upon its heated point while my cum rushed forth and soaked the fabric of my skirt some once again.

Leaving me in complete _ruins._

And Harry still kept _fucking_ me.

I went _limp_ across the granite staircase surface, all of my essence seeping out of my pores as I laid, prone and shaking with a profound ongoing orgasm while my eyes rolled to the very back of my head in dizzying heat while Harry’s cock kept pounding and _spearing_ itself into me.

My ears were loud in the ringing of my seventh heaven echoing within the hollow of my hearing beating in time with the abnormally fast pulsing of my heart as I was being bounced up and down across the floor with each violent pierce of Harry’s large, burning cock.

“We’re not done yet, _Princess_.” Harry’s words were filled with salacious, filthy intent, low and mumbling in the slightly roughened hue of his breaths as he rocked into me in that same ungodly fast and hard penetration of his cock in my aching hole.

And I … I was both physically and mentally _done for._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohoho. You thought that was the end of the sex? Nope. I got more. So be prepared mwaha. Hoped you enjoyed this chapter. I sure did *grins*. Remember to check out my tumblr: reimcai if you want the latest news on my updates and stories as well as follow any ideas and inspirations I have as well as short writings and etc.


	14. Abolition: A Calor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for this chapter. But here it is, and I hope you all like it. Harry is very difficult to write haha. But alas! This chapter was very fun to write. Thank you for those who keep supporting me and loving my work as well as giving my stories a try, it's always appreciated. The next update with be random, but it will come, I just have other stories I'm working on so please be patient with me, I'm not giving up on this story *shimmies excitedly*. 
> 
> Anyways, go on and read, ya lovely perverts!

_Harry_

 

 

 _It_ managed to pilfer, strayed among flapping gums of shadows stretching across tight creases from within my stubborn mouth, mind slack, draining their essence of pulsating reverence that seemed to become stripped _raw_ and bare in its presence. “Fear”, it was, well, some of what makes up it’s form.

I often found myself with the planes of my back hunched and tensed, shoulder blades sharpening out to hiss at moist air, a spark of scalding liquid dripping into the caverns of my heated gut like an acidic bite as my head bows in constraint. My palms would shake, splayed out against any solid ground to keep myself _here._  There are times where I’d blink rapidly wherever my body has collapsed in on itself and I would stare blankly at the floor on the scrape of my shins. It is there that my breaths would solidify between clutters and cruelty that I couldn’t help but give myself into.

I have always been a fucked up piece of shite, not just throughout the war and after, but when I was young as well.  

Since childhood, having to grow up in a household where my own family pitted against me through verbal and physical abuse, I learned that nothing well came out of anything. I was careful, I learned how to keep myself from others, to stay inside of the worn down onyx walls that was self created within my head. I knew how to trick people into thinking that I’d do what they want to find myself doing the complete opposite. My family told me to do one thing, I’d act like I would do their bidding and do terrible things with their knowledge completely oblivious the next. I did drugs, every shade of them, throughout my Hogwarts school years and when I was forced to come home to that shite hole. I’d use my magic to do what I wanted and hid the traces it would leave so the Ministry of Magic wouldn’t come for me. I often did wandless spells and chants if I needed it to survive through my stay at my aunt’s because she sure as hell wouldn’t help me with food and the necessities to live.  

I played with others’ heads to keep myself entertained.

And took solace in others’ agony when I came across it or induced it myself.

I found it … perplexingly _amusing ._

Having seen people die left and right because of my being a bloody savior to thousands upon thousands of wizards, had never made me sick, rather, I grew used to it and found sickening enjoyment out of seeing bodies drop to the ground.

Some deserved it, some didn’t.

When I stopped denying how fucked in the head I was, I wanted to _fix_ myself. Whether through drugs and alcohol or saving people’s lives throughout my whole life even if I didn’t want to, I forced myself to keep astray from the most deepest, malicious Stygian of my thoughts.

But that didn’t last long.

_Blood. And death._

They followed me everywhere.

And I couldn’t quiet keep my pleasure for them away from myself.

I thought I was out of my mind, so at times I tried to kill myself. I thought that the world didn’t need someone having so much power carry around such a screwed up cadence inside themselves. I was dangerous. And people would get hurt sooner or later from my very doing, I thought.

I was a contradiction, one solid idea bouncing to the next with a wobbly platform that couldn’t hold such desires that often switched from bad and good.

I wanted to help people.

I could have cared less.

I wanted to save those who needed it the most.

I needed to see others rotting at my feet or dawdle at the lowest of their forms.

And Draco embodied the purest of someone that I wanted to see fall apart and get put back together, one piece by one devastatingly breathtaking piece.

My attention was always on Draco ever since I met him when we were children. I didn’t know why, and for the life of me, I thought the blonde meant nothing but a nuisance and was too much of a pretty boy.

But I started to notice how I’d watch his every movement when growing up around the princess. At the age of seventeen, my gaze would track down the slim, petite, deliciously small curves of the pureblood boy whenever he was in my vicinity, couldn’t help but watch him move gracefully on those long stripper legs of his with all that creamy crystal kissed skin he carried with him and those “fuck me”, wide moonstone eyes. The relentless arguments and fights we’d get in made the usually calm and collected restrained focus I held, crack at the seams, slowly. As if Draco and his haughty, bratty, _cute_ person ebbed away at the severity that I built inside myself and the calm facade that I crafted for others to see and cover up the true form of my vicious being.

My blood would obnoxiously rush to my stiffening cock whenever Draco was near, heady with the need to mess the blonde up and get him to splutter about in his snappish attitude that I had grown so fond of over the years we’ve known each other.

He made me want to inflict every disembodied emotion my hazarding self had onto him, so he could take some of my confused pain, sorrow, happiness, and joy so I wouldn’t have to carry everything, even the void that I drowned myself in most of the time.

Somewhere in the depths of my brain, I knew Draco was hiding behind that bunny sneer of his. And that made me feel like I had some sort of kinship with someone who had to carry so much shite inside themselves like myself. I was fascinated by the blonde, and the stupid loyalty he had for his degrading, piss pile of parents that didn’t deserve an ounce of the love that he so fearfully, _shamefully,_ hidden away because he was taught that he was someone who had to always hide his emotions to be seen as a “strong” figure.

I _knew_ of this.

Because there were times, when we were in Hogwarts, where I’d find him curled up against one of the many large floor to ceiling window sills in the building, where he’d let his guard down in the latest of nights. Draco would either be reading a book, doing his schoolwork, or staring out the damn window with the moon playing across the soft of his striking features. Those were the times where he’d let himself be vulnerable. I’d watch him cry silently to himself, his small body trembling when he figured no one was watching.

I wanted to _break_ him apart some more and cause him to fear my very existence as well as fold him like a delicate bird within the space of my arms and let him sob and take comfort in my presence.

And then I watched Draco cry on the bathroom floor when I’d _hurt_ him, both intentionally and uninhibited. I hated making the Slytherin shatter across the dirty ground and loved observing the way his cheeks reddened and the perfectly put together boy crawl out of his own skin and display the _purity_ that he kept secret from everyone, including himself.

That’s when I knew I liked Draco Malfoy.

Flashes of images played like a livewire of electricity across my eyes when I stared down at the broken porcelain doll lying across the wet linoleum floor, of how I could easily drag the slim thing by the small of his ankles, turn him around and shove my cock into him, rough and without mercy as I turn him into a meat sock for my dick to fuck until Draco was left drooling and bleeding out. To desecrate and shed him of every thought until he shown me the innocence he carried within him.

Sure, I knew I liked boys back then, thought of fucking into their arses, even done so, but Draco was a constant niggling sensation in the back of my head that shrouded my sanity more than it already had been that I didn’t want to give into. He was a permanent interest of mine compared to those who I fucked and easily discarded like chewed gum. But in the end, Draco was the only one I wanted.

When I gained the dark energy of the wizards who died in the war, I got worse.

I couldn’t control myself.

If Draco was anywhere close by, my magic wanted to covet and swallow the boy whole because of how he was so interested in the bad of everything but was so _clean_ inside from any sinister thoughts. And both the magic and I, fucked up as we were, wanted to dirty Kitten’s being. To form fit him into our own destruction.

But I didn’t want to _kill_ him in the process.

So I stayed away from him.

I felt torn, skewed of conscience as I observed the one thing I couldn’t have keep a good distance away from myself while I tried to keep my magic at bay and self taught myself to keep it intact. I felt out of place from my body, made up of fog that clustered in on itself and smothered those around it. I felt like a fucking animal, a mere disgusting creature that fumbled about on pristine floors until it seemed as if I had begun to walk on all four limbs like the _thing_ that I had become.

My body didn’t feel like my own with all that residual, comdemned magic attaching and mingling itself with my own harsh one. I noticed that this unruly sensation was not that of emptiness, but of non existence. As if I was not here, nor there. I had to learn how to adjust to life after the war again, how to create another mask that hid myself away from others. But Draco made me feel alive when I felt like I wasn’t, the thought of him fire started a reaction of wrong and right within my head and it made emotions I stowed away, burst forth.

He was the one _real_ feeling I could formulate and pinpoint throughout my loss of perspective while being the sole thing that made my thoughts run rampant in chaotic fixation. He was a puzzle that had no discerning shape or size that I wanted to glue together. He was a continuous interest of mine that I knew I would never bore of and that both adrenalized my person and enticed me to be extremely cautious of him. Because Kitten made me _feel_ when I didn’t, and that in itself made the boy dangerous to my psyche.

He had me. Whether he knew it or not, he had me for a while.

And he was _mine_ from the first time we met, even if both him and I didn’t know it.

I _owned_ him.

But I was wary of my control over the power I gained and cultivated. Of how it would end the life of the one person I was so infatuated with because my own damn magic wanted to see me suffer and feed off of it if it was to destroy the person I felt most attached to and cared for.

After the war, there was some part of me that liked helping people, the most human of my side needing to aid those in need of it. I had some good in me, very little of it though. And there was the cruelty that I couldn’t contain. So when I stumbled across an assassination program by simply asking nefarious criminalized groups of wizards on the run from those who hunted them about the people who came for them, I found my job and indulged in both the savior and damning thing that I was.

Throughout the agonizingly repressed desire to carve Draco inside and out as my own since the war, I had resigned myself to only keeping watch of the pretty blonde. During the late nights of self deprecation of my own unbecoming, my mind often wandered over to the way Kitten’s arse bounced in those tight uniformed trousers. The fabric of those pants stretched obscenely tight over Draco’s oblivious movements, material clinging to the flesh of his perky arse as he walked by me to get to wherever uptight, educational event he had to get to when we were in school.

I wanted to make the Slytherin prince get on his knees, open up that darling mouth of his and swallow my _wrong_.

But I couldn’t do that to him.

I made sure to keep my eyes on Draco though.

There was no escaping Princess.

So I painstakingly watched him for years after the war.

It was easy for me to be cold and callous, hell, I always been inside since I was a child but over the years that passed, I started to care less about my appearance and shown the wizarding and muggle world how fucked up I was, to an extent that wouldn’t make them put me on death row that is. I conjured up a new mask that shown some of my personality but most of it was still kept away. So I thought being the bastard I was around Draco would elicit the blonde to grow hatred for me and keep himself safe from my being when I was trying so hard to be clear of him because of my fear of killing him if I had him, but the damn Slytherin fought back and made my void fill with overwhelming emotions ten fold when we would interact with one another. Instead of shuttering himself out from me, Draco shown his like for the toxicity I had and that made me want him even more because that meant that he liked both my good and bad sides. He didn’t hide from my wretched person but instead, was excited and captivatingly scared of me.

Draco embedded himself in my skull and stuck to the walls of my head like an addiction that became a destructive craving I couldn’t get rid of and was chewing away at the walls I built up against the boy for his safety.

Watching Draco from afar was somewhat bearable, but actually having to be in the same room, _breathing_ , and interacting with him, made me go fucking bonkers.

The blonde got his way. I did as well. We both wanted each other and for some reason unbeknownst to me, Draco didn’t run from my treacherous being and dove head first down towards the hell we would be going to together. He damned himself for me, and I fucking reveled in it, in both awe and horror. The boy was pure but ignorantly beguiled by all that was bad for him. Like a curious little kitten.

Draco’s dilemma of a person coincided with mine and enraged the interest of my magic.

And that’s how I found myself _here_ . Fucking the gorgeous blonde that I’ve imagined plundering my cock into countless times for the sole reason of Kitten’s reassurance in my self control over my magic to keep him alive and myself sane. His begging for me did it. And his full faith of me made my restraint for him _combust_.

_You’re going to ruin him._

My breaths, hot and heavy in the slight rise of my sweat slick chest, came out in roughened, low pitches, the sounds fornicating through a harsh volatile whoosh of air that seemed to have brewed up within the space of my turbulent esophagus, the warmed taste building up from the grinding uptick of my jaw, restrained in its prevent of relentless uptake.

My mind felt obscured, a fever that traced its way through every vessel of my thrumming brain as an inflamed pitch black sensation started to crawl its way into my mind and scratch away at the walls of my sanity, desire burning the tips of my fingers that peered into the soft, porcelain pale flesh of the blonde’s pretty thighs beneath me, branding him with my touch as a morbid fascination filtered in the observant warmed glowing gaze of my eyes that traced every wet trail of Draco’s aroused exertion played out lovingly over the slim of his limbs.

The hard lines of my body stiffened further at the scene playing out before me, a wash of rapture flooding my system with sickening delight as I watched Draco’s pretty rose bud arehole swallow the length of my angry, reddened cock, sucking me in with a whorish need that made the heat dip down my spine, causing a short burst of shivers to trail over my strained flesh.

_Fuck._

Draco looked like a mess.

And I wanted to _destroy_ him.

The wet snow kissed strands of Draco’s hair fell around the quaking of his shoulders in wisps of tousled filthy euphoria, the cherry petal “O” shape of his moist lips moving about in frenzied scorch, opening and closing with the slut of his broken kittenish mewls and squeaky unhinged pleasured screams a symphony of bliss in my ears as I took in the way the flushed peach tinge of his perky nipples hardened and stood up invitingly.

I wanted to bite down on them.

I wanted, and wanted, and _wantedwantedwanted._

And I was going to make his body and mind desire me and only me.

Scalding heat shot down my body as I  lifted my hips to drag the length of my cock slowly into my princess’ hot hole, feeling the tight, slippery, honey warmed arse squeeze enticingly around my vehement prick as I let my appendage shift Draco’s insides around to fit myself wholly into him, the disastrous need to turn this spoiled little beautiful bitch of mine inside and out like a crisp fucking packet that I can take amuse and ecstasy in was an overwhelming want that I  couldn't and didn't want to shake.

_Shite._

Draco felt like every heaven and hell that I’m inclined to take immense satisfaction in.

I didn’t even hesitate when I heard Draco’s distressed, slutty moan tremble out of his slack mouth when I easily conjured up the magic coursing wildy in my limbs and apparated both Draco and I away from the steps we were on to find ourselves settled across the black marbled second floor of my mansion at the top of the stairs.

With Draco’s hole spasming around my cock, I sucked in a rough breath at the wide set of the blonde’s surprised, heat ladened opal gaze to have him squeak out loud as I twisted his lower half with my dick still lodged up his perky arse, playing with his insides as I tossed the Syltherin over the flat of his chest across the sleek granite.

“Stick that arse out, baby. Come on, up up, and face down, _down._ ” My voice came out in an animalistic, carnal, calmed low tone, murmuring my words to Draco’s back as I took the right of my hand up and slammed it against the back of the blonde’s head so I could watch in interest at the way Draco’s cheek slapped against the ground as he quickly turned his head to the side, face smushed against the floor as he instinctively drew his arse up against my groin and let out a breathy hiccuping sob when my dick pricked _deeper_ inside of him, puncturing my way over his prostate as he shook like a fawn on his upraised weakened knees and curled toes.

The long line of his back arched like a wanton harlot, his lithe body curvaceously small beneath me, the delicacy of his shoulder blades a protruding state that had my cock pulsating viciously with dark craving to plunder into Draco’s dainty figure to shatter him whole and make him into the fucking wrecked, broken doll that he reminds me so much of.

_You’re going to make him cry._

_And scream._

The entirety of my bones buzzed from underneath my flesh, prickling with dark energy that fused into a tar like substance that seemed to suffocate my lungs in an acidic, toxic prominence, leaving me to find myself heaving Draco’s arse up with the digging of my nails into the front his upper left thigh, lifting his leg high and spreading him wider to cause the boy to titter slightly so I could nestle my prick into him with a deadly precision, making a sweet cry emit from the blonde’s wobbling lips.

I released my right hand from the back of Draco’s head to instead, swing my right booted foot up to press it against the left of his temple, stamping my foot down against his head as I reveled in the yelp Kitten gave away when I all but rammed my cock into the plump of the blonde’s arse in a quick, violent succession.

_Jesus fuck, he’s tight._

And I liked seeing Draco unable to move from beneath me. Stuck. Forced to take my cock like the slut that he is for me.

Godsdamnit, I want to fuck my cum into this boy until he was drooling out my juices and dripping globs of my filth from his pretty, devastated boy pussy, to see it run down the inner slopes of his milky, spazzing thighs as he lay there, _broken_ and corrupted by my very doing.

And I did exactly that.

Making sure Draco couldn’t escape from his position beneath me, I withdrew my hips, cock squelching out an obscene sound that made the pretty blush on Princess’ cheeks grow crimson, to snap my lower half forward, my prick intruding through Draco’s body like a violation that the Slytherin so naively permitted.

_What a fucking whore._

_My_ pretty whore.

Draco’s bumcheeks jiggled from where my hip bones slapped against his plump arse, the slender of his figure bouncing up from the vicious impact of my pistoned fuck into him as I watched his body drag up the granite floor, his knees skidding about as I punched through him again, relishing in the vice like grip his hole had on my cock, fire licking up my skin in inevitable consume as I shoveled my way into the blonde, over and over with a breathy, low chuckle escaping my parted mouth as I tried to inhale the sweet, warm lily sugar scent of the Slytherin’s sex mingling with my muskier one.

Kitten was rambling incoherent, keening words from under my boot, eyes large and so bloody innocent looking as they wandered about in a dazed sort of drugged out state while I shoved my cock in and out of him with an inhumane pace, my breaths coming out harder as I tried to catch the adrenalized brutal fervor dragging its way in the depth of my chest.

My head reeled from one point to the next in blurring tandems, the edges of my teeth clamping shut together and sluicing in a screeching grind as I felt the corners of my lips tip up into a deranged, malicious musing snarl, all covetous and carnivorous when my thoughts flickered like the disintegrating shadowed flames of a lit candle.

 _“Always wanted to fuck you. To hurt and make you a lifeless sex doll for me to use whenever I please.”_ My words came out stilted in an octave lower, rasping out of my tense jaw, the sharp of my cheekbones seeming to grow rigid as I yanked Draco’s leg that I had in an iron grip towards me the same time I pummeled forward, air cracking out of my lungs as I felt the searing clutch of Draco’s hole seize around my cock and pump my prick with a frantic suck.

Draco _sobbed._

Fuck. I liked the sound of his voice splitting apart and trying to find its way back together like a collapsed glass shard, so very _ruined_.

I loved seeing Draco in this state.

Messy.

And with his arse up and face down.

Fucking him like the animal that I felt like I was.

_You have him now._

“H-Harry please. I-I can’t, this is too mu-uh-uh- _uh!_ ” Draco’s words were cut off when I whipped his body down towards my hips in time with a sharp upward thrust of my pelvis against his arse. Princess’ once limp hands flew up in a staggering pace, the wet of his sweat dripping down the curve of his spine as I watched his red mouth mumble out rasping moans that grew in crescendo, rubbing his cheek against the ground frantically as he shook his head in disbelieving, overwhelming pleasure as his lips turned liquid in there sudden lax fissure. The slender of his shaking fingers snapped back behind himself to nestle the blunt of his erratic nails into the flesh of my hand that kept tugging his left leg away from his other, splaying him so fucking wide just to watch his pretty hole contract deliciously around my still ramming cock.

And I was going to come soon.

Draco was going to get another orgasm.

But this time, he’ll probably pass out, the fragile thing he was.

I’ll still be fucking my juice into him even if he’s dead weight.

Water started to build at the corners of Draco’s bright, blurred gaze, welling up and spilling down the slopes of his cheeks as he sobbed out his ecstacy, arse slapping soundly back against my hips that quickened in their pace to chase my own orgasm that kept climbing higher and higher to the point where I snarled, demonic like and containing the multiple resonance of all the raw magic inside of me that paced back and forth within my body like a caged beast, the sound slamming against the spacious walls of the mansion surrounding us.

The blonde’s keening turned into a siren’s wailing as I fucked him, fast, hard, and relentless as the skin across my bones started to hum in a heated pitch and my ears rang with a white noise that popped and crackled like fire eating away at the rope of a stick of dynamite ready to implode.

“Fuck, baby, you feel good. Come on, ask me to let you come.” I growled out my words, the space in my chest aching from the low of my tone as it came out like a mass of genocide, impure and not holy but as if Satan himself poured out of my voice.

And Draco fucking seized around my plundering dick from the sound of my raw form showing forth, his words causing my hips to stutter in their track to fuck him into oblivion. " _Pl-please_ , Erus, let me c-c-come!"

I loved hearing him call me "Master" in that wonderous Latin language he perfected. 

His words and the sound of his meek voice made my cock pulsate violently inside of Draco in response, blood and heat pumping faster into my prick.

_Princess is such a tease._

I could feel my magic barge it’s way up my throat and ready to spill out and draw in Draco’s essence, like Kitten was it’s prey and it needed to feast upon his flesh and light like the second coming of Christ.

And it felt _good._

Everything was shifting colors and the visuals around me were disconjointing, the only thing clear enough for the hooded stare of my blood red eyes to see was the figure of Draco’s body twitching like he was being electrocuted from the inside his frame, his screaming intensifying as I watched with satisfaction spreading out over my warmed flesh at the spill of cum dripping out of his sore, cute prick while his hole vacuumed my cock in and out as if it had turned itself into the tightest boypussy I’ve ever fucked into.

And it was.

Draco was _lovely_ in his sacrilege.

I could hear my name being repeated, over and over again, passed his quivering mouth as I watched his head loll like a lifeless puppet as his body went liquid gold in my hands and his knees gave out from under him, eyes rolling to the back of his head in anadulturated bliss from his released arousal.

And then he went _unconscious_ in my hands as I groaned out lowly in reprieve at the sight of the full on case of his vulnerability displayed before my hungry eyes. The sparkling wet of his long, pale lashes brushed at the flushed tips of his cheekbones, his breaths ragged as he started to spasm on the granite floor in little increments.

Gorgeous in his sexual slaughter.

My little lamb, eaten by the lion.

The magic was building, but I kept a tight hold on it as it dragged its power against the inner workings of my guts, feeling the oncoming sensation of my own pleasure building and turning into an unstoppable happening.

Dropping my head back, I curled my lips up into an amused sneer, snarling out Draco’s name on the tip of my heavy tongue as the air in my lungs started to boil inside of my chest, soaking in the sensation of Draco’s sleeping body flopping about recklessly across the floor as I used him as my sex toy.

He looked _stunning_ this way.

I shoved my foot harder against Draco’s head to keep his body still, feeling volatile in my perverse enjoyment in degrading the pretty boy as I made his slackened figure hold motionless for a moment so I could cram myself into him some more.

I felt the strands of my dark hair brush across my temples and the back of my neck in fluttering caresses as I slammed my eyes shut and roared out my release, my cock _exploding_ it’s cum out and into the channel of my Kitten’s arse. I felt the veins in my neck snap and strain against my skin as my throat worked over its strain to keep my dark magic at bay while I thrusted my hips twice the rhythm it was at so I could shove shove and   _shove_ my filth into the limp boy beneath me.

My magic came to life, some of it slipping passed the glistening sweat of my fingers yanking on Draco’s thigh as I kept fucking into him and felt my cum ooze out of his cherry, abolished hole, the line of my back going rigid as I bared my teeth at the sky and gave a sharp smile at the ceiling of my mansion in the daze of both the power and my coming dancing together with a wild, disturbing presence.

But I held it steadfast.

I was in control.

Draco would not die in my fucking arms.

So I snapped my teeth together in a hard grit at the blistering, thinning atmosphere around me that proved my magic was slipping out to claim Draco’s body and essence under my hard body, hissing out my struggle as I tried to reign the sickness invading my system and the area around me. My muscles tensed and relaxed profusely, cock still hard inside of my Princess as I sucked in a large shuddering breath and soaked the perilous energy back into the confined spaces of my head and within my skin.

My magic escaping from my body was an otherworldly sensation, just like how I came inside of Draco. It was as if my magic and giving the blonde my filth was double the pleasure in my release.

Having the power come back to me was dizzying, but it felt like coming home because it has become _me._

And Draco wasn’t dying.

The pretty boy was still unconscious and breathing, stuttering in his gasps of air, as he lied across the stone floor, blacked out and oozing out my cum that spewed out around my cock and his hole.

I can control my magic.

_You could have done this to Draco years ago._

But I wouldn't dwell on the many times I could have had Draco beneath me, crying out so sweetly with my prick inside him and rearranging his insides, no, because I have him now. And I still wasn’t done with him, not in the nearest.

Especially now that I know I can keep this horrid magic from killing Kitten.

I was no way near finished fucking him.

Instead of resting, with my cock still hard rock inside of Draco, I softly took off the flat of my booted foot from the blonde’s temple and conjured up my powers to apparate both of us up into my bedroom, where I sat on top of my mattress and situated Draco’s flopping body around to get him to face me with his front pressed against my chest, making him spread his weakened thighs over my own larger ones so he could straddle me as I all but lifted up his whole body by grasping onto his hips in a careless ease. The downy feather silver strands of his messy hair flowed and sprawled out over his bare shoulders in a tantalizing view, the flat of his stomach carrying pearly whites of his own drying cum and the plump of his arse squishing delightfully over my upper legs. His skin was a darling shade of rose quartz.

Draco looked unearthly _beautiful._

My stomach dipped with heat then, quick and unrelenting in its sharp stimulation at the sight the Slytherin shown.

I chuckled roughly as I blew out the tousled locks of my pitch black hair away from my eyes so I could watch with dark bemusement at the way Draco’s eyelids snapped open and a whine bubble out of his feeble throat, grey eyes stricken and unfocused, right when I dropped all his weight down over my prick and drove straight into him to press the tip of my cock right against his quaking prostate.

Draco’s body tilted sideways and _melted_ unsteadily on my lap as his gaze went hazy, figure becoming a fine line of a tremor as he gave out a pathetic, adorable mewl of a protest against my fucking him again. His hands opened and closed at his sides, though they lifted the tiniest bit to lay the flat of his shaking hands onto the flesh of my abs as he fell forward like a sack of potatoes and let me bare most of his weight as he sat prettily and precariously in my lap with his hands now trapped against my abdomen and his soft stomach, the front of his forehead resting against the right of my cheekbone.

_Fucking adorable._

But that wouldn’t do.

With the way Draco gave out a contented little hum of a sigh from the slightest, sleep addled lilt of his lips, I _knew_ he didn’t really want me to stop.

And I didn’t want to.

So I fucked my cock into him _again_.

I took what was mine, making sure his insides knew my shape and was stained with my cum like a permanent injury. 

Draco woke up screaming and crying out his pleasure from my prick plundering him cruelly. 

And it was bloody well perfect. 

 


End file.
